Infinite Corridor Poem by Patti Masterman

Memories and time give other meanings
Prehistoric nerve was made of almost nothing-
Roots, berries, and salamanders in fire
Some metals possess the same memory: they can be bent
If hammered; they won't shatter like ancient grudges
In the antiqued world of causal urges
The night has a presumptive disorder
Saints pressed on glass preside
The once-begotten souls arrive late, clustering like bubbles
Lighter now than any known atomic number they begin to rise
Away from the repelling fields beneath
The last dregs of vital force are propellant
To leave the swaddling clothes of Earth behind
Wrapped in filaments of waning dreams, they take flight
Weighing less than a death's-head gulp of air
Hollow city shapes are in the dark, and restless rivers wrinkle
In sinuous scrawls, as if they knew their destination
And have all eternity to get there
Above, the worn amalgam begins to disintegrate
Organic shapes are rendered out of Earth's sloppy embrace
The alphabet of elements goes free fall again
A bevy of tongues closes down shop, like lids on retorts
Glass keeps flowing molecules along gravity's indention's
While self empties out, even as fine crystal does:
Stretching across infinities corridor.