that drop of oil falls and blends and spreads across the surface of my life
tiny pieces of a unit pulled out into a thousand parts differing in size and roundness
impacting my brain as I attempt to count each little one wishing them back into the drop
The process is not reversible in this cup of water in this cup of life
The drop of chaos drops into your daily routine forcing it's impositions upon the feel
upon the morning and afternoon adding too much sugar not quite enough
satisfaction sits somewhere in the brain and the gut like a loose smooth God
waiting for your offerings so open curtains and serve yourself from this day
The drop of oil that splashes into the glass and ruins your drink
separating like a big bang escaping the cotton to absorb it
leaving every aspect of life uncontrollably random
unprocessed and raw not consumable
That drop of chaos in the explosion
mortar breaking the shopfronts and layered streetsigns
daily life sends us as lame beggers brainwashed to seek relief
Brainwashed to seek control even as it's out of our hands
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