Perpetualism

Nothing was born again today.
And, again, nothing died.

Is this heaven?
I’m not so sure.

Flowers clipped just re-appear.
Nothing ever moves,
But me
On free energy.

How long have I been?
And, how long will I go?

I forgot the day I last used those.
What were they?

Objects.

Not sand nor dust
Can cover up my wonder
Here, on this eternal day
Of no decay.

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