Apocalypse
A desert left vacant
by the withdrawal of the kosmos,
no other prospect but the eternal return
of one horizon, and another
and then another…
the world; a sense
that splinters
and fragments
and ricochets
across an abyss
left trembling
by the retreat
of any horizon
to which an absolute sense
could be assigned.
The world, its end;
the death of its sign,
the birth of its sense.