tmbt: after laws of attraction come…
the law of conservation of energy:
energy cannot be created, nor destroyed, it just changes form
the law of inertia:
any physical object is resistant to change in its state of motion
Where does it go? Where did it come from? To whom does it belong, this warm amber ripple down the throat up the arms over the shoulder down the back around the ribs to the sternum again. This energy arising and subsiding, surfacing and plunging, never gone but never really born to begin with either, always moving always wanting. I am no match for the sheer invincible science of it all, but I can be one thing: the container within which it changes, it moves yet goes absolutely nowhere beyond the birthing walls nor digs deep enough to stay six feet under anything. And I can decide how thin my walls and how fragile my glass. I must. Lest I shatter a thousand times over in and upon myself, ground to make perfect new eyeglasses for the seeing out from another set of browns, or blues, or if lucky again, greens. Pearly, did you call them?
Venus and Jupiter have not fallen anywhere. They’ve just kept moving.