True name

Sometimes, gratitude isn't enough
But a gesture is too much
In such times, feelings overflow into paper
As blood changes into a river of red ink

Cherished categories are accelerated
Taken to their ultimate consequences
So to smash against each other
And give birth to new words

New wor.l.ds, all children of chaos
Ephemeral worlds, lasting worlds
Even a few replicating worlds
Oh competing, complementing codes!

Shall the fittest thrive
In this art of playing games
Things become what they mean
Poetry is life by its true name