flattening of x
instincts evacuate the nose
quantities collapse into their symbols
knowing parts of the eyes find tunnels
the pattern is that there is none
i've squared every digit into oblivion
condemned to backtrack over nothing
i recede as if i am in motion
i am what i am in stasis
i am what i do not know
i fall behind the world as it goes black
i am but the echoic self
