In one, things break into pieces
In the other, broken parts come together
We are cut off by divine intervention
To see only one direction
From order to disorder
Yet we remember, as we recreate
For we are made into order
As we dream, we plan, re-arrange, we produce
We enter into bounds of order
To refresh, get relatively younger.
In that other half of time
‘Time’ as in 'real' stops
We cool-off, collapse into infinite density of space-time
To see things as they exist
In order from disorder.
*This piece of writing is dedicated to my friend Yemisi Agboola
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