This one turns toward time again—toward its texture, its folding, and the impossibility of standing outside it:
RHEO:
How do you picture time?
TOPO:
A line, I suppose.
From then to now to next.
RHEO:
That’s one way. But what if time folds?
TOPO:
Folds?
RHEO:
Yes. Loops, curves, spirals.
What if the past returns—not behind us, but through us?
TOPO:
Then the future wouldn’t be ahead—but immanent.
RHEO:
Exactly. Not what we move toward,
but what emerges within the present.
TOPO:
So time is not a track we follow,
but a texture we inhabit.
RHEO:
Yes. And every moment is not a point,
but a crossing.
RHEO & TOPO:
Time does not pass.
It gathers—
and we are gathered with it.
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