It's Still Life

The Architecture of a Moment

The Architecture of Entanglement
Either/Or, Both/And

He settles into pillows and blankets, “What are you writing; read it to me,” he says. Softly, quietly, a step above breath, Of temporal entanglement, I begin. He laughs. And vomits again.

— a particle shivers.
Its spin decided
by an action yet to occur.

The future causes the past,
and time is like a spinning coin.

This is the science of déjà vu —
not a memory,
but resonance of a tremor
from a choice we haven’t yet made,

an echo backwards,
to haunt us
with the ghost of a moment
we are destined to live.

We are particles.

A first meeting is not a beginning,
but fulfilment.
A necessary collapse into Us
that echoes through all yesterdays.

There is no past or future.
There is only the single
entangled event of We,

a spinning coin that
defines us across all tenses.

And he’s fallen asleep. I match his rhythm without meaning to. A slower breath, careful listening, holding space for pain and courage.

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Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge “Past & Present”. Poems/prose and some images are ©Misky 2006-2025.