how now never happens,
we just get the ruble of results.
yea, happy with the sensory
as cognitive of the aftermath,
interpretive as darkness and light,
repurpose every moment
in the constancy of weaving time.
there is the meander of previous intentions.
the glare of previous meaningfuls is staring back.
the august of the lay of the cognitive land,
is as the beauty of a functioning past.
we all are having the reverie of memorables
that intercede with any mention going forward.
but now is only a preoccupation away from the present,
even though we claim it as such,
as our suffrage from the lock-step logic's override.
emotions are ever at the mind's bus stop,
waiting for a now to get a ride . . .
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