time appears to mind-pose,
as a mirror reflecting,
holding constant,
experience's empty gaze,
exists as a silent count
but not numerical in nature,
yet, ever the staging of experience
to the audience,
featuring the liquidity of nextness,
without made mention,
in its first-person presence as status.
it provides for the slide-show ongoing,
as if every next thought
exists initially as a tick,
on its solo journey
to immediately become a tock,
met with a kiss,
then on to a goodbye wave.
this is how time
becomes mindfully environmental.
for the ticking becomes so loud,
it can't be heard.
it is beyond sensory ordained.
it is an undisclosed isness,
that can't be anointed to sustain.
you can speak of it,
as if it is speaking of itself.
but to objectify its essence,
is only in its presence agreeing.
literally, nothing mocks time.
but we don't get the punchline,
unless time is laughing within us . . .
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