In the depths of the depths something begins, although in truth—the simultaneous— it’s likely already arrived at its end,
vapors cohered, cores long burning, diamonds smoldering within eons stacked into depths. Always far from us, sparks begin
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to flare inside proteins. Conical shells stretch monstrous in our own alien waters. Earth upon Earth has opened and already come to the iced or flaming end
of everything except sludge or scales or fur. Nestled in the hoodoo-ed peaks, stars ignite like forest fires surging on the heights, red-hot beginning
named apocalypse. Praise it, the breath emptying and filling. Our new Earth already holds its end, and stars’ lives dazzle us
in their stalled, single moment. As far as we’re concerned, it’s always now. The universe endures. In time’s deeps, everything begins to engulf us, red galaxies winking from the end.
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