I got into an argument in my head while on the drive to my brother's house, mostly about literal metaphor. Anyway.
Headlights: red shifts, white shifts,
coldly scintillating on the horizon,
slopes and hills revealing,
"They're only cold because of the space inbetween."
White line and white light,
concordian boundary containing this starflow,
in a universe where two is more probable than one.
Vast, strange complexity beyond, but incompatible (?)
Infinite (?)
--That's what the children dream, at any rate.
They'll dream until they learn to drive,
and keep their eyes on the road.
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