Equidistance from hands, trusting, quiet. Signs point away and turn back, pointing through decisions made in advance. We neglect rationality’s bonds, encased in glass containers and coffee mugs, transparent with hindsight’s unblinking gaze, unable to seek tomorrow’s light. We are living in constancy, in movement, named the same yet ever-changing in it’s force, it’s fate, grasping the weathered edges of temporal pages, bound in singularity into our past.