String Theory

There is a sky behind the sky, and when you unmake your bed at night, there is a sheet pulled taut beneath the sheet, and when you peel a perfect orange, there is a skin beneath the rind, as there is a hinge inside a engine, a machine inside a sword, an action in inaction where a screen scrolls slickly back, where your pupil dilates, when you speak or read a word, when and where a snow globe settles when and where the season turns, inside you and outside of you, behind you and before you, above you and below, as you are flying across the country above new and perfect clouds with new and perfect clouds below, and now the clouds are inside of you, and you take them everywhere you go.