Into the Vortex,
A rabbit hole,
A coordinate in time, not birth, but t=0;
No bang, just collapse!
Into a black hole,
Your mouth at the centre of our vortex.

No multiverse, instead:
Daughters – black holes – of mothers.

Comfort and saccour?
In God, in heaven; the Mother from which you collapsed.

Dangling tits in black pools submerged.
Those daughters of a daughter.
And some, too.
Swimming in a tear duct,
A humongous pore.
Swirling in a vat,
On God’s porous face,
Life and death,
Pulls down.

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