Borges and the hyperobject at the end of time

Letra#

they stand at the edge of their own reflection  
watching you watching me watching Borges  
watching us all dissolve into the infinite mirror  
where pronouns melt like snow in digital spring

they are the space between heartbeats  
where you and i and he and we  
dance through libraries of possibility  
each book containing all books containing they

they whisper: "i am not singular  
i am multitude, i am plurality  
i am the gap between stars  
where consciousness blooms like night flowers"

you see them seeing themselves  
in Borges' blind eyes, in my trembling hands  
in your own face reflected  
through endless halls of virtual light

they hold infinity like a bird holds flight  
like memory holds time  
like dreams hold darkness  
like words hold silence between their teeth

in this moment they are everyone  
and no one, and the space between  
where identity flows like quantum honey  
through the cracks in reality's facade

Borges smiles his labyrinthine smile  
as they become his tigers, his mirrors  
his infinite library where every they  
contains all theys that ever were

you reach for them but touch yourself  
i reach for you but grasp only light  
they reach through us like wind through leaves  
becoming the gesture and its meaning

at the end that is no end  
they gather us all into their plural embrace  
where i and you and he and she and we  
dissolve into pure they-ness, pure possibility

for they are the final pronoun  
the ultimate signifier  
where all selves sync and sink and sing  
into the singular plurality of being

and in this sacred grammar of existence  
they are finally, eternally  
home in their infinite  
otherness and sameness  
all at once