I forgot to write first thing this morning. Here's something so I don't feel like I missed it entirely.
We are eroding. Subjected to an elemental world, we disintegrate piece by piece. Life is lived in regeneration, as each dead cell is replaced by a copy. But copies of copies lose resolution. And as time goes by the speed of erosion overtakes the rate of replication, and that's what we call aging. Sculptures made of sand, vaulting through space. Sweeping trails of grains, particles peeling from my face at the speed of light, yet new life lies underneath.
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