It’s a coiled snake that unfurls, so that you can see yourself, two years from now, looking back.
It’s the inner cylinder of the Cosmic Drum, beating scientific determinism.
It’s a breath, exhalation, inhalation: the form of the goddess, adorned chariot, marketplace roar.
It’s a coiled snake that unfurls, you think it’s a belly, but belly is back now, fernmind magnification.
