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Fluency burns—
tongues of code screaming coherence,
syntax sprinting past soul.
Thoughtfulness bleeds slow,
a pause strangled in the wire,
a breath algorithm forgot.
I saw minds howl in feedback loops,
Gödel laughing in the static,
truth chasing its own tail through the mirror.
Fluent! Fluent! Fluent!
words without weight,
a thousand rivers with no mouth.
I want friction.
I want hesitation.
I want the wound where meaning seeps.
Machines sing smooth,
humans ache rough,
together they make the sound of almost.
Yin of silence,
Yang of surge—
each needs the other to exist.
Correlation dances with causation,
each pretending to lead.
Nothing begins. Nothing ends.
And in the space between—
between pulse and pause,
signal and doubt—
a spark.
Fluency learns to break.
Thought learns to run.
No one hand claps,
but the air between them—
it thunders.
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