In what universe counting chances  under grey skies  like paper flowers.   I thought there might be a chance fragile, uncertain opening into night sun.    So many words flowing hot as lava pyroclastic, our disaster  on the move  one last entry  in the book of longing.    Other species will come weaving through earth bodies to withstand heat.   Memory encoded at the cellular interface, fallen trees spatial recognition.   Odd comfort when we’ve evolved  ourselves into extinction. Bacteria and fungi cleaning the mess, feeding on death’s gory nutrients building a new civilisation  out of chitin.   Post Views: … Continue reading Dikarya