My quantum identity: A Poem
I’m not solid, not real — a dance of chance,
A shimmer in the void, a fleeting glance.
I am a wave that crashes, then reforms,
Each gaze a sculptor, shaping new norms.
No fixed identity, just paths that spread,
Possibilities bloom where I might tread.
A flicker in the fabric, here and gone
A quantum knot, entwined with the dawn
They say I'm made of waves, a ripple in the gray.
Not solid bone and crave, but chance that goes my way.
I'm here, then not, then both, a blur of what could be.
A path the particles chose, to build and show as me.
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