1. Endless streams of matter push from your hand, expanding a memory that comes from the diary of a hundred thousand years of us. You have no concept just a drive to set us into space.
Space occupied, leaving matter as a mark on the silent planet.
Wood pigeon and others
Humm of distant lawn mower
Car moves farther away.
All fades until just birds
3. Where are you now
Standing in the darkness, hands pressing your eyelids
Photo receptors ping and briefly flash
The light show, does not show
You are searching for the places lost
For a way of conjuring places from a dead memory.
All the words can tell you is unimaginable as these things have not existed, not recently.
As the light fades your receptors excite in anticipation of the scene, but it never comes. You are an evolutionary dead end fulfilling your own prophecies.
As the last one of us leaves we turn out the light.
4. At this moment you only know now what you know now, in a moment or two you will know more.