My life is neither
here nor there
but always in the flux
between the two;
now and later
being concepts the mind
refuses to accept.

My feet are pointed
in the direction
they must travel,
one leg follows the other
in an endless journey
to the other side.

26 letters make up
a universe of thought,
as if the keyboard
reaches to infinity,
fingers stretching
to achieve the last word.

And the last word, as always,
will grow to be these three:
Control, Alternate, Delete