Abracadabra

Superstitions are what I live by—
my reasoning has lost its capacity
to guide or comfort me.

I am a vessel
on a finite and predetermined path
full of unexpected appearances,
and my adherence to magical guidance
is strict and unwavering.

Life is just an abstraction anyway—
upside down and inside out—
might as well embellish it

with riddles and nonsense—collecting
all those things we have abandoned,
and recasting them as spells
that conjure new configurations
of cosmological time.