the advent of writing on an illumined screen
seduced by the light
drawn by the flame
like a moth
by instinct
towards something more ineffable
more absolute and conclusively open
than this fragile human life
on an illumined scroll we tap with our fingertips
and by some invisible mechanism of longing
words appear
moving us towards center
not to be mistaken for form
more like the sun burning
something closer to plasma
even finer
making our passage on earth somehow
indellible uncompromised in its delicacy
in the grand and smallest scale of things
beyond the opaque metamophosis of pen and paper
the light arises from
beyond thought
—Lorena Wolfman
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