Speaking From A Glass

I spread over
Roads and houses, roofs and
Floors. Reminiscing of time spent in
The great non-existence that presides
Over all.

I fill
Great cavities, and conform to
Their shape.
I fill
Small cavities, and conform to
Their shape still.

Sometimes I
Spill out, unable to contain all that
Lies within me, and contaminate all
I touch with that glistening
Film.

When heat forsakes
Me, I must steel myself to compete in
Such a frosty environment.
And when
Energy blesses me, I am set
Free.

My touch is merciful, but is also
Deadly.

It is hard to measure
Intentions.

I may fall upon
Innocents, and woe befall
Them. Taking their last gasps, last
Struggles.

Is this not a
Kindness? Perhaps they are too
Blind to see for themselves. They will
Understand eventually.
Except that there
Is no eventually.

To those I
Devastate, I can offer no
Apology.

I am consumed shamelessly, sucked into
The voids of many, from which but
Emptiness springs forth. And this
Powers the creation of nothing.
Perhaps this
Nothing means something in the
Moment of its' creation, perhaps its'
Creation holds depth. But it is
Reduced to a shallow void
Nevertheless.

Do I empower any
Worth?

Who can grasp my
Form? Magnification and clarification collaborate
To explain such.
Detailing all they
Perceive in an Almagest of
Orbs and lines. I am not the Grand
Cross. Am I but a cloud instead? Are
We?

Bits flying everywhere, contorting in
Grotesque forms only to dissipate again into the
Void.
Lines belt out at the surface, disrupting
The view of the world from that tiny
Crystal ball of a droplet. Something
Rising from the rolling hills of
Nowhere.

Were it that I played God, and chose
Where to place my boon. But the void will
Find my blessings and curses, and take them
All, anyway.

Look at me, look at
Yourself. Do you see me or
Yourself? It's not up to
me. I can but distort your presence, dwindling
Accuracies and averting
Gazes.

I exist within, without. I
Speak from the rolling hills of
Nowhere.