imaginary lines
ones drawn in nature
naturally skew
right to left
up to sideways
and also back again
never to the same start
but a new one
each time from here
and here
and here
always different
always born from
that first imaginary line
put forth
and down
and across
no crumbs of hierarchy
only beginnings
only fresh starts
only dawning springs
only new possibilities
bodies crumbling
briefly brushing up against
secret vespers
fading
feeding
foundations for
all those tomorrows.