Shoving reality through a hole in the wetness, through the tiny soul
anus. The tiny soul sphincter, a pinhole in the starniverse. Pinhole
starlight revealing the white light without.

A grain of starlight, starlight against the grain, the grain of the
night sky. The night and its frosty old floes. The night and its gentle
blue scabs.

Slinging treadmills at the stars. Tramps on treadmills trambling along.