12.2024
Bioism meets muses in archeological collection.
Stone dreams of unknown,
of softness touching time,
absorbing ancient weight,
fragments of a world reshaped,
by the anomaly of bliss.


Filaments of translucent fragility,
iridescent in their efflorescence,
float over temporality,
excrescences of improbable life.

The strangeness of it all unsettles,
the aura of becoming,
time oscillates in biofacts,
where the archaic collides,
with the emergent.

Each is a singularity,
a cryptic monad,
carved from the impossible.

What is life,
if not the assertion of the fragile,
against the weight of the eternal?
What are these forms,
if not the cosmos,
dreaming through stone?




