Iridescence on the Edge

They hover like glitches in the dark
soft, luminous, unreal.
Tiny worlds wrapped in chrome light,
edges flickering in pinks and golds
like the last frame before something disappears.

They carry shadows inside them
but still glow anyway
like that’s the point,
like breaking and shining
were always the same thing.

No gravity, no plan
just surface tension and timing,
just a held breath
pretending to be forever.

It feels familiar.
The way they drift.
The way they burn bright
on borrowed light.

We’re not so different
all of us temporary,
all of us electric for a moment,
floating through the dark
lit up by things we didn’t create.

And still
we shine.
Right until the flicker,
the pop,
the sudden
nothing.

Object number

088.056