Level the surface of something as obscure as “depth”. Impossibly, you hold something that defies gravity, It exists but doesn’t. It holds weight and is weightless all at once. It is what we call “Depth”.
You desperately try to rewrite it in layman’s terms. Level the surface of something so untouchable, So that it may remain flat, palpable, real. We sand down our conversations and our interests buff away the personality so that we can remain digestible. Surface level, even. Level the surface of something so complex and tedious out of fear and nothing will remain.
Depth. The presence of layers, complexities, nuances: Illuminate the length of time, The width of desire, The height of our emotions. Spatially conjoined at each edge Are two points of contention then we search for exploited three-dimensional illusions As a way to level the surface.
In theory we understand reflection And refraction with something tangible And struggle to make it Transferrable to the abstract. In practice the tip of this vertex is the point of no change when spliced apart and dissected each barrier produces a diffraction too substantial to reconcile.
Depth. Cohesive on the surface. Leveled, to pieces.
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