I Am

As if rising from a dream, a white-out of greatsparks and heat encompass allspace. Where once stood the omnipotent black crackleless vacuum, now a libation in winkinglights and rock and spindlegasses, all of them dancing with jink and jostle for position, little tracts they seem to claim as their own. I blink and once barren marbles seem to have exploded with lifecolor, as their microbricks momentarily aligned in perfect cohesion. In the same breath it takes to smile in delight, a thousand needle-eyes that dot the everything streak and popout with a kiss.
 
On the mass with so many deeplush shades and coldtwinkles and grainwastes and reservoirs, tiny creatures are birthed and mingle with their metamorphosing surroundings. Little waves moving through me on a little sphere spinning through me in the vast immensity that is me. They cannot see me, but on some level, perceive me. Unfocusing into reverie, an idea sticks that they could be great.
 

When next I check back, slackjaw, they have covered their world, erecting towering structures and relics, creating many unonce things. Multitudes of shiny amusement, instruments that feed brother death, even cylinders with burningbreath that shoot them out into the morass. They are industrious and have discovered so much, yet now they have stopped searching, content in their tiny circle. With boredom I undulate outwards watching the cycle, the creation of nearlife, dispersion, collision, but something pulls me back like a nagging thought or an itch.
 

The orb that heated my once treasure pets is diminished and dying. They move again, but stand still, with a collective buzzingmoan. They see their demise, their birth, all of them, together. The noise coagulates to a break-rattling crescendo of a roar, and again, the whatIknow, rips from the inside out, from inside these little people, and momentarily I see myself reflected in their energy, before what is, is pulled into the jagged seam and sealed. Things as they were, it’s time for slumber.
 
 

• drew evagreens -