Come still

 Come still. Blind apprentice The bows dazzle you. Sooner or later they are announced. In a quick afternoon. Harvest afternoon. The harvest grows on the other side of the afternoon. Field of love of the seasons. Do not change. Not even the hours with rubber are erased at a certain point in the afternoon. Time comes overwhelming: Make way. Space is pushed aside, deformed, flattened, and reaches the other side. Let me go like a lightning bolt due to the deformation of time and I no longer know where I am.

Sense, then ex-isto as hypo/thesis.