We’re all born blank, but as we spin
a lens creeps brinkwards, sharpening
             our lives on us
                          bit by bit.

We yearn to fill with simple light,
a golden spiral, smooth and tight
             to bridge us from
                          core to brink.

But what we get, in part, depends
on what the great computer has
             in store to pass
                          through our lens.

And also on our spin’s cadence.
Too slow, the spiral’s curves expand
             and leave big gaps
                          cold and dark.

Too fast, the spiral’s curves collide
exposing twice or thrice the dose.
             Such strength of light
                          blows a fuse.

Or if our lenses wobble or warp,
our worlds become distorted,
             discoloured or
                          disordered.

We’re also prey to sharp events
unhoped by lens, some so intense
             we stick and skip,
                          scraped and scratched.

With all the aforementioned threats
some fret away what they’d protect.
             Some get reckless.
                          Some get wrecked.
                                                                                              Some eject.