like a black slimy
creaturely thing, its tail end barely
grasped before it slips into a still pool
reflecting stars so sharp, it feels like judgment
and when you dare look up
they shriek in pin pricks with every roll of your eye,
pressing down, bending your back
till your head bows in prayer from the onslaught
and further still, till you plunge into the depths
and the trappings of length and breath
unspool, and Time unfolds…unfolds…unfolds