⊹    
  *                                ­                    *                               ⊹
  *
· ⊹ 
Ȋ̸̛̩̩̞̘̻̫̫͐̀ ̷͎̥̬͔͑̂̄́̈́͝͝h̶̛̪̣͇̩̏͑̂̋̎a̵̟͔̹̟̰̤̐̇͊v̶̡̛̪̯̙̱̞̝̞̝̹̂͆́̊́̄͛e̷̹̤͉͝ ̴̨̧̡̛͚͇̝̰̬͖͛̒̈͂̔͘͝ñ̵̼̻͇̀̑͛̏ͅě̸̘̓́̽̋̑͗͠v̴͇͍̖͈̰͙̬̘̻͚̈ȇ̴̦̄͒͘r̷̮̼̰̩͕̟̮̤͗ ̵̡̙̤̣̙̖̟͚͊̂̆ͅȧ̸̡̡̢̛̳̦͚̕v̸̜̘̦̱͙̹̳̲̱̄̈̒̀͝e̸̡͚̗̣͇̹̾̆̍͋̌n̷̢͔͈̠̘̓g̴͎̦͉̉̓͗̕e̵̢̟̩̣͙͙̐͗̄̂͒ḋ̸̳͉͖͖͇̰̠̥̲̇̍̏͛͘͜͠ ̷̛̺̦̯̩̪͌́̉̌̿̉͐m̵̪̓͠y̴̱͍̆̍̂̂̾͋͘s̷̱͕̰̞̳͕͙̱̼͆̅̃̌͠ę̷͚̤̙͓͈̹̺̲̖͑̂̈́͑̄̅͑͋̎͠l̵̝̞̣͉̃͑̍̎f̸͈̞͇͒́̈͛̈́͌̌̾.̷̨̤͙̲̬̬̩͆̃ ̶̻̣͍̂̆̀͝I̴̧̳̤͑̐ ̷̨̘͑̽͝͝ͅl̶̨̙̤͈̲̗̽̂̀͌͌̐̉͂͘ȩ̶̛̛͓͕̻͔̳̳̭̙̐͊̓͝͝͠a̸͙͖̖̋̔̽̏͠ͅv̴̧̛͕͔̀̄̈́̏͝ẹ̷͍̰̟̫̣̤̏̾̇͐́̃̈́̑ ̴̨͕͆í̴̢̧̙̠̥̩̫̇́̂̀͐̕t̵̛̮̝̄̓̀̓͘͜ ̸͖̠̰̯̏̈̈́͜t̷̢̤̭̺͖͒͗ò̵̢̪͇͂͋̔ ̷̡̛̗̫͍̼̈́̇̾̒͘t̶̢̢̬̗̦̹̠̣͈͌̄̈́̕h̴̽͘ͅę̴̯̍̈́͂̓̆ ̶̢̛̪͌͌̿̿͂͑͊̎w̵͇̲̜͉͎̟̳͒͒̂͌r̸̝̫̲̠̼̠̣̱̈́̈́̾ạ̶͉̠̩͎͈̈́̅͒͆͒̾̂̾̐t̴̼̻̳̣͊h̸͉͇̭̲̣̏͛ ̸̠̮̤͙̻̈́̒̀͂́́̇̉ó̴̮̺̔͑̀͑̉f̸̞̈́͌͊̈́͌̈́ ̸̬̜͙͕̏͂̎́͒͆͠G̵̠̱͚̳͊͆̆ǫ̶̻͈̞̆̐͆̚̚͝d̶͓̏.̶̧̘̣͈̪̞̩̭̱͋͂̓́͜

                                              * ·      · ˚
  ✧
⁕                                                    
.

·

                   · ˚          .
                                          ⁕                              ­                                 
        .


i propose that fate is not the ¹⁰¹⁰⁰¹ :
opposite of choice; * . •
if fate, choice, ° . .
form a triumvirate of cause
and effect. :
nestled beneath . * •
every pin feather
of chance. . °

·                   · ˚          .
                                          ⁕                              ­                                 

in this i avenge myself . •
and sacrifice evey word i wrote .
to the wrath of *♡. ; • .

even in being as odd as I AM. . .
a living (by) breathing . •. . ° . ;
example of peculiarities: contrary things
○:□, all manner of art. (♡-He) . : .
so perfectly; perfect opposites–He asked me:

·                   · ˚          .
                    .                      ⁕            .                  . ­                                 

“what have you cut off of your flesh,
lately?” ·       · ˚ .

So i confessed
to dumbing down the equations
so that every man could understand them.
i confessed in flesh my weakness
having wanted to be seen. (el roi)

        · ˚          . ○ . .
             .                             ⁕                               ­       •                .          
. . ° .

and He hardened your ♡–so the
anointing would be crystal. : * .

when the new words come before you
when you open up my vision. •. *

⊹ . . . . .
    🪐   •     . 
   . *        · ˚
            . °.   ✷
     .

it was not coincidence * . ° .
when *♡ called me by name a number. :
it is how fate is not the ¹⁰¹⁰⁰¹
opposite of choice; • . . *
i know now that fate, choice, .• .
form a triumvirate of cause . ○ • . . .
and effect . . , . . * .
nestled beneath. . . •.
every pin feather • . °
of destiny. ; .



   *        · ˚
              ✷ .
“you must work six days to reap the blessings of the seventh,” He told me…

He told me…

He told me… ∞. . .

six pm

(*inspired by sermon: Anointed for the Altercation by T.D. Jakes, and God♡♡♡)

⁕                                                                                  .

*                                    

                           ∗

•                                   

                    .

∗                                                              

       i     ◊

· •                am a                ◦ 

                    sentimental                   ∙ 

∗           •     physicist.          ∗    ◦·

       ⁕·        observing      ∙        ⋰

º     the gravity     ⋱

             ∗·       of emotion.                    

                    noting the                   

                  subtle lensing     ∗ ◦·

                   of light,                    

∗ ◦·     as it         

              filters                

.

∗ . ⊹      passed you                            

                  and      ∗ . ⊹

⁕       distorts my   ∗ ◦   ·

star weary

  eyes.∗

        *                 

·                   •             .

*            

.∗ .                                     ⊹

i must

crunch the∗ . 

∗ equations &∗ 

check them  

.

twice

∗ ◦·    before

i don

aluminum,

     ∗ . ⊹  .endure    ∗ ◦·

    your∗ . ⊹

∗ . ⊹endless

cold,

.•

.

& shoot

     for your ∗ ◦·

∗ ◦·    moon.•

○.

⁂⁖

.

the

∗ . ⊹mass

effect∗ . ⊹

of you

.

.consumes.

hypothesis:

.your

spirit’s   ∗ ◦·

∗ . ⊹path is

visible

light,∗ . ⊹

∗ ◦·   racing

towards

a cosmic

.

wall; to

decorate

galactic sky   ∗ ◦·

as microwave

impressionism.

•°.

.

                     *

·  •                   .

*

.to

make

sense of

your dark,*

·                  • .

*

.                                            

.   i spend

my nights

measuring

boundless

black

matter that

surrounds us.

enraptured

by the

.scented skyline

prophesying:

jet propulsion,

.

serenaded, and*

*

*                                                      

                            *

*

*lemonade rainfall;

Armageddon

upon another

acid planet.

.

your pain

upon the

reaches

.still unpinned

by travelled

telescopes;*

*

*                             

dying

technologies

making me

.*

                     *

*                       

jealous of*

all the

.places where

the universe

.sees the

parts

of you

i am

physically

.

incapable

of being. °

•.    

⁖                                                ⁕

.

                .                                                   º              *                     

*                                                                   *         

as love

moves

in ellipticals

it eclipses

my heart,. º *

* *

eventually.

always,

                .             º                      *

*                            *

the awe

never ceases

.

to inspire me.

invokes my

. º         muse      ..  º 

 *

*                                                               *

devote my

life to

translating

. ºthe beauty of

its euphoria. º

into the

.English

. ºvernacular.

.

ceaselessly.

                              •

.                       

.to release

. ºthe burden of

it’s memory. º

. º              •                          

   ⁕ .

*                            .           º     

∗                

.*         •

.                                  .•

.like the sun

.burned into

.my retinas.

.•    *

.

 *    i compose &

compute each

. º   *   intangible    • 

*     .

equation.

.

nuance

.

comprises

.

.•

.itself onto

endless notations.

converting numbers,

filtered through

my limbic system,

into colloquial

.prose.••

.•

.

.closest words

to illustration,

as my

.

cerebellum

can

surmise. •

. •°.

•.

code the

sentences

unto

my poems;

my theories

of everything.

.presenting

my poetry

.to everyone

as my

.thesis.

phantoms

obsessing

my mind

.my only

tangible

evidence.

am i

   ⁕ .                         

*

                                           ∗

..still the

only

person

who can⁕ .

              *

∗                       

.

see

how

perfect

we

are?

the

only

person

.

.who

sees

.our

future

written

.•

.

in the

•                                            ⁕                                                                                   .

*                                         

                                ∗

.

.stars?

.

-six pm 

                    *sentimental physics                ⁕ .

*

                                  ∗

•                                         

.

*

§

*

⁕www.by6pm.art

*

*six pm | 2018

Aladdin 1992

i.
i had a dream
there were polaroids of us.
developing sunken
and strewn across
my pink comforter.

(a soft cosmos.)

i saw how happy we were,
you tall and in your glasses,
arms around me and hunched
to envelope your frame
around mine.

behold; my real smile.
not where my controlled lips
stiff; cover my gum line,
to feign the sort of “elationship”
i experienced only when
we would speak…


ii.
shut the curtains.
i don’t even want
the sun to filter in
through the fabric
& change the tone
of my pale skin.

i want to stay the same,
i want to be exactly as i was
the day you reached across,
felt me, and i touched you.
 

iii.
i hope to hold our whole world
and hand it to you in my palm.

(even if mine crumbles.)

Atlas bent & crippled
i am devoted to
holding you up.
i will not shrug.

(oh, i must move on)


iv.
(no.) cleanse my home
w. white sage & string
along my bedpost
bewitched apples cored.
finally biting into you
was like biting into
an apple that hid a star.


and *omitted,
how i adore stars.
i lose sleep
surrounded by them,
counting them, staring
into mirror telescopes
until my eyes burn
and my vision blurs.


i will hold you
in my mind’s eye
forever. i will dedicate
and devote every motion
onward towards the path
which leads back to you.
 

(even if it feels eerily, like eights.)


(infinity.) behold infinity
within the iris of your
half-m∞n eyes smiling
back in a beam.


v.
i’ll race time to the future,
at the far end of our solar system.
first steps cracking untouched
crust of Pluto’s nitrogen snow, 
at the  center of her heart-
shaped crater. look back into
space as the glim of Earth
is licked (–flickers)

(the moment of our first kiss.)

like these memories, no more
than a spectacle, a twinkle, in the
otherwise steady shine of Earth
bathed in our Sun’s overcast light.
filtered and shrunk by distance and
gravity as a star–finally, a star
i had never gleaned before. (oh!)
how fortune smiles upon all…


(who behold you, *omitted.) six pm

*revised 2021

Paige Six | 2019