My worlds never turned out, while Its planets littered space like marbles that should have lost their worth for their superabundance. Instead they gained value according to their exponential increase in comparative uniqueness. My worlds were so dense they ate themselves, or they became gaseous emissions whose slimy, wandering cores tore them apart.
It whispered that my worlds lacked meaning.
I stopped what I was doing, which meant I was listening and willing to consider The Lesson It Was Offering. Although as Its apprentice I was the unlimited expression of space, I somehow fell toward a planet deep in Its web of worlds. The planet drank my amorphous nature and converted me into concrete particulars:
leaves, rocks, silt, a veritable carnival of organisms referred to as a “swamp.” In the swamp and upon its banks organisms of every shape and size were divided into contrasting yet complimentary “genders.”
Gently I regained my infinite expansiveness. Behind me was Its familiar presence. Yet I found myself wondering if the presence was a He or a She.
To find out, I created a world.