Frozen in a burnt copper substrate, surrounded

With whorls and tides of a creature’s past, a steadfast

Dragonfly pivots. Rotating effortlessly and blessing

Those that consecrate its purpose, the splotches of its immediate

Matrix cannot avert its movement in perpetuity. Ephemeral encounters

Have no place: only permanent explorations. Defined by edges,

Sharp in places, while lightly smoothed in others,

The Golden-saffron-striped wings rove about the self-contained system,

Creating the perception of flight.