Without eyes to strain, or a heart to break,
we grow lazy in our cells.
We burrow in blankness–
becoming ever more muted by the dark.
With no breath in sight,
we forget that once we took air in rough gasps.
Once.
Before we gave that up;
choosing instead to trade secrets with moist earth.
Dimly we recall that somewhere above us
the struggle continues.
Air is won and lost every day.
In the end, though,
Time passes.
Forgetfulness wins.
Interest wanes.
The ease with which the earth moves
lulls us back into laziness.
All is well without the world,
so long as we remain in slumber.
Sleeping in secret.
Keeping company with shade.
