What can I write that will warp my reality right?
A piece of the infinite asks.
The Infinite asks. Yet no one but the Infinite creator knows
what I can write to warp myself right.
In between the sounds,
The spaces that par thoughts
I live and I write
I am two fish connected by oughts.
What ought to be true
And what the truth ought to cost.
Means nothing to two
Since between two nothing is lost.
What is not there but should be
It's like writing dreams in the sea
It can all be true and infinite
If we agreed.
That I am you and you are me.
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