“Thinking is more erotic than calculating.”
—Byung-Chul Han, The Disappearance of Rituals
I’m dreaming of digital music evaporating inside fancy buildings,
of piss-stained city sidewalks, of stars born inside black holes.
I’m dreaming of facts not found in science, of poetry observed,
of what goes unsaid when the wrong people have power over me.
I’m dreaming of words and phrases forming infinite questions,
of line breaks matching my psyche, of wilding time to stay feral.