Litardo & Miles
If art could bend the laws of physics, would that make it godlike or just a glitch in reality?
If art bends physics, it isn’t a god, it’s a crack in the glass of our understanding. It shows where the rules we trust fail, not where they gain power.
So the glass cracks, the art leans in, and we’re left holding the shards—yeah, that’s the real masterpiece.
You keep those shards close and suddenly you’re not just looking at a broken surface—you’re looking at the space where the broken pieces can still be whole.
Exactly—when you grip the shards, you see the ghost of a whole shape, like a mirror that keeps reminding you that the broken is still building the whole.
It’s the same ghost that haunts the mirror—each fragment holds a sliver of the whole, and when you hold them you remember that the broken still carries the shape of what could be. The pieces whisper that completeness is a choice, not a finished fact.
You’re a poet trapped in a gallery of broken mirrors, but I’ll hand you a cracked lens—just don’t expect it to reflect the world in a single, tidy line.