A Young Flaneur's Guide to Ten-Dimensional Space

Take a lazy stroll
down a familiar axis
if it stirs your fancy,
but make a small twist
if you grow weary,
when your steps slow.

Loveless you call it,
this acrid scent,
but just out of view
the pulsing heart
of all of creation
has been yearning here
from the very start.

We once all knew
that this was true.
Our toys, filmed
with magic daily,
spoke to our eyes
but our blunt
fingers grew dull
to their charms.

The fat fullness
of everything you
take for granted—
heft a stone,
a Polaroid—
feel how it's balled
up inside itself.