how would you illustrate it?

Ends
.chs

When people hand me a roll of developed pictures I always
Look at the bottom picture first. I like the ends,
I like basketball but only watch the playoffs, fourth quarter,
And I like my team to win, my answer to be right, my song to play
When I’m having a rough night. I don’t suggest you live like me.
Most people would go crazy with a tick like mine, always
working backwards through space and time.

But then one day I met a man with a roll of pictures
That was never meant to be viewed first from the end,
For when I glanced and flipped right past I vanished
In a flaring comet skipping atmospheres, booms brightly and
Passes on to a place where I have no bearing. No bones
To beat a harmony out and hope that someone will seek me
way down here in this place, it’s ghostly quiet.

Now the only way I know to send a wave off your head
Is in a form of misconfusion and dancing open ends
Like the Rumi’s of our dreaming winds who guide us
With lenience, connections and pretending places,
But I learned the secret of the space that awaits us is
Much more liquid than this basement of a gaze
where I’m talking to you Now.