Sounds dance on the ceiling,
spiraling downward, in the
flashing light of the unknown night.
Its diversion creates memories
...
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devouring. engrossing. completely absorbing. you know how to provoke a flow- can't wait to see what you do with it, Michael. furthermore, i respect your abolishment of ideals in your writing. slant towards the finite. the realistic. tragic. and penetrable mortality. care, sjg
this had a sureal/whimsical feel to me, not sure if I've ever seen 'flipbooks' in a poem before. -chuck