Within concentric paisley
Measured heaving breath
Entrail dropping, cavernous
Gothic ribcage pulsating
In synchronized swells
What is source, what is echo
Slow thumping Persian carpet
Motes wafting back down
Each pulse shuffling through the frame
I am tapestry fodder
With nothing to grip
Surrender the unfolding
Among us, the slow revolving
Procession regenerating
Elements collapse into dirt
Consolidating into life