Yesterday’s Causality

There is something so much kinder
about the unknown, a sort of
absolution that only lasts
as long as the mystery does;

there is something so cold
about the truth, a bit painful the way
humble clues and self-fulfilling prophecies
snap together like bone, in an instant

of realization you are unsure
you’d really prefer to darkness.
You blink in the strange light
and balk at the tangled mess

that is yesterday’s causality – you see yourself
amid its threads of twisted logic and
fraying dreams, amid the broken strings
of that beloved imaginary puppetmaster. You see

yourself and wonder
how you could have been so
oblivious, but even as you wonder this
you are still in the thick of it, helping along

entropy’s favourite version of the future
whether you want to or not. Even as you swear
control, a new day unveils itself around you,
a collapsing of senses as worlds fold into each other,

promising you one thing:
you will never know the extent
of your effect, whether as negligible
as a fruit fly’s batting wings

or as inestimable as the rearrangement
of a paradigm. But if it helps
you to survive, then by all means, pretend
the answer is on the tip of your stubborn tongue.