Monday, May 08, 2017

the whole point of limitless

slowly dragging a squash court, inch by inch, to make with it a swathe of river that turned slowly around, many magic carpetlets airborne and with a few lives left, some minutes before life, trees that blur and change their viewpoints, helpless but for the wanton waste on nothing, building scale alongside, changing wallpapers, when open road and open sky are well documented, and a close open lot is a lot, its not the colors that make the droplets move, its not all the talk talk talk, it is, nor the relentless light that snakes around all little shadow puppets and moves their darkness around, shapes and turns them, there is no looking backwards, but wait we can, to see if it all moved a little, a lot, became rubble with darkness, burst many flowers without warning, the leaves are green again, they exist, look, but no, its raining, pouring over every single last dream, cut sharp and cold, if only eyes wide shut were a teenage boy's most earnest wish come true, sure this too will pass, but what imagined world was it more beautiful, all the angles, shaking like vibrato, wholly unprepared for a little phase shift, now put in the sleepy hollow, a time cake just sweet enough and add coffee, it dulls the great black blur for a few anachrons, so many nightmares before dawn, letting go, hah, timecount is brilliant and nicely punctuated, wide open spaces between slices and guilt, its a magical time to live in, a beautiful day to pause the storm, and turn on a feather, dream along the sparkle of sun and the music between

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