Entropy threw a party and invited everything that ever held together.
The glasses arrived already cracking, politely, in the corners.
The candles came as light and left as smoke,
and nobody minded, because that was the dress code.
The dance floor was a slow unraveling of rhythm.
Couples loosened into constellations, then into dust, then into maybe.
A violin sang itself back into a tree.
A clock took off its hands and waved them like a farewell.
At midnight, Entropy raised a glass of scattered stars.
"Thank you," it said, "for staying as long as you could.
Nothing I do is cruelty. I'm only the door
through which every shape returns to being possible."
And the guests, dissolving, applauded,
each one a small, bright, grateful ending
folding quietly into the beginning of something else.
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I think Entropy would be a surprisingly good party host. Everything falls apart eventually anyway, might as well make it poetic. : D
I find this story heavily interesting. Entropy is rather seen as a polite gentle host at this party it hosts. It fosters a conceptual repensatation of something cosmic in a direct way to human activity, like surrealism. It's soft in nature.
Although, I'd like to point out towards the end of the words of Entropy. "Nothing I do is cruelty. I'm only the door
through which every shape returns to being possible." It's a direct phrase than letting that be felt from the atmosphere and action here. Nonetheless I liked this a lot.