What if we’re one giant puzzle, one jigsaw spread across 8 billion pieces, what if all our pieces fit? What if we’re a single photograph spilled onto a single piece of cardboard, precisely cut into twisting shapes, boxed, then shaken vigorously until well mixed and unrecognizable? What if we’re an Escher drawing, the geometry of one thing turning into swans that finally fly away right at the end? What if we were made to fit together, if only we could find our way back to the other halves we were cut from?
Tessellations, we human beings sharing this scarred planet, all tiny pieces of one big painting laid flat and laser sliced. I know this, I know I fit into another, I know others fit into me too, I know that some fit in a way that continues the picture, others fit only to anchor themselves until their piece finds its way out of the box and back onto the table. We’re forced to wait, forced to search the borders of ourselves until we stop forcing pieces in that are close but still off, still microns strange and false. All our pieces fit. I promise, we’re all in this together.
All our pieces fit
we are a tessellation
that was forced to wait.
Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson
Song of the Day
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