The Mind

Eons of shattered silence playing in loops.
Fragments. Humming. Recollection.
Unspoken but in the depths of the nether-conscious.
A poignant memory. A vaguely familiar melody. An amalgam of past, present, and future.
It churns, whirls, connecting, dissecting, breaking, constructing.
There is no terminus and then there is.
A stroke of brilliance followed by a frothy gray gait into fluff and stuff.
All unidentifiable yet so familiar.
It beckons, calls, goads, instigates, but never controls.
Hints of life. Deja vu. Out of body. Out of mind. Within the world. Without it.
Here. There. Gone. All the same.
Infinity of being. Time is nothing.