Inside the first half of another birthday.

there’s another half to go.

If I split the halves into quarters

It becomes the second quarter

of the first half of another birthday, or

the 2nd quarter of 4 quarters of another birthday.

If the length of time in this birthday had, let’s say,

a fly traversing its length never stopping

flying forward and backward this birthday will never end.

people will tire of sending best wishes under its title.

others will die long before the end of the event.

soon enough all will vanish from the physical world.

but the fly lives on, zipping between the beginning

and the end of the birthday, which closes in on itself,

but is never ending.

In other words, I’m screwed.