There’s infinity within our corpse shaped cauldrons and it’s bubbling over at all times.


It’s a curious thing,
conversing with another living being,
considering the vastness and complexity
that exists beyond
the mere flesh and blood
that you are seeing.

It’s been said
that the eyes are the portals to the soul
and if you study them truly,
you might very well find yourself
searching for words
as the mysteries of life
and of love and existence
temporarily proceed to unfold.

There’s infinity within
our corpse shaped cauldrons
and it’s bubbling over at all times,
so excuse me
if I stagger and stutter and stumble
as I attempt to put together a few
regular everyday lines.

All the beauty
that lies in the lines on your surface
can derail ones focus enough,
without the added distractible fact
that your beauty is carved out of
ancient cosmological stuff.

Every inch of your being
has been wildly transferred
from the start
to the stars
to the ground
and then merged
every fragment has travelled
through time and through space
to compose
the very hair the very nose the very face
the most uncut history lesson
that can ever possibly take place
sitting right here in front of me,
bursting at the seams
with what’s real and what’s truly awake.

Am I supposed to be talking about
the weather?

As my mind tries to ponder
your pond of forever
my brain and my mouth drift apart
and stop working together.
Like my brain’s been promoted but
my mouth’s been sent down to the cellar.

On the hunt for some more wine no doubt.

I have heard that
each cell from each strand of each psyche
may contain within it the code to reproduce
the whole universe entirely,
but still a part of me worries about
whether you do or don’t like me.

I guess maybe the whole universe
can be a little obsessive and whiney.

There’s a theory in science called
‘the sum over histories’
that suggests that there’s
infinite paths that map
all possibilities,
and yet somehow
we’re sat here together
all nervous and fidgety.

As you finish your drink
and then roll up your sleeves
I’m left stunned at the thought
that we’re always bestowed
with the newest of forms
that existence can think to conceive.
Yes one second we thrive
and the next we may bleed
but we’re never
an outdated version of who we should be.

But now I’m thinking about blood,
and quickly realise
that I’ve wandered too far
and it’s not going to do me much good.

So I shuffle and scout
through my minds roundabout
in a struggle
to shout some normalities out
as you gesture to leave,

and reality hits with a thud.

Connection Human Human Nature Humour Love Mystery Random trippy

Adam Millett View All →

Adam Millett is a freelance writer for hire with an affinity for dressing up as Spiderman and writing about saving the planet. He likes to climb trees and stare at the stars in his spare time and likes to help businesses tell their sustainability stories while he’s working. Visit his website at if you want to tell the world yours.

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