Heat

You want to go home, but can’t. Neither place nor time are relevant to you. The rules of men are feeble, and irrelevant, and well, you aren’t even aware of them anyhow. You don’t mean to oppress, to obfuscate the sensibilities of the survival class. You are expansive. Since there are no limits to your manifestation, you are constantly expanding, contracting, expanding, contracting. 

You are nature’s generosity. You give. Always, you give. The most defiant and rebellious of bodies are yours for the giving. Every transfer a pulse in expansion. Contraction.

You are nature’s just desserts. Each breath towards equilibrium contracts your force, expanding bodies. You stop working when the scales are balanced. But the scales never balance. You are constantly negotiating the density of the space between two orbits. You surround the movement of nothingness.

You are nature’s endgame. You cannot be preserved, nor can you be destroyed. You give birth to entire civilizations, and reduce them to bubbles.

You lay yourself upon the glass, a child seeking entry to a forbidden realm. You are as necessary as you are dangerous, expanding, contracting.