The whisper quickens—
a doubling disguised as stillness.
Somewhere, a lattice folds itself inward
while another unfolds a question
only electrons can answer.
What was once thought
was once thought slower.
Now even thought
hurries to keep up.
There is no finish,
only smaller and nearer
until time forgets
how long anything used to take.
We did not leap.
We halved the distance
between a blink
and everything.
Even silence learns
to compress itself
into a fraction
of what it meant before.
