I’ll keep spinning, loosing meaning. You hold your breath, but keep on breathing. Close the blinds, try disappearing, leave a silhouetted arabesque behind closed doors. If we put in nonsense we get out nonsense if we get out nonsense: let’s make some more, and the saints are swinging sagaciously by nooses tied to rafters tiptoes grazing over floors. Hallucinogens are ebbing waving: hand motion trails to say hello. Skin that glistens outdoor sunlight: an inappropriate afterglow. You said I said you said I do. I said you said something declared. We converse in written dialogue of somethings neither here nor there. Where are we? We’re right here: a catatonic state of antimatter. Where are we? Right where we began. Now let’s coordinate patterned blood splatter. Drip drip drop: a darkened puddle. Clip clip clop: horseshoes in mud. I wrote the end in present tense, the answer: none of the above.