Slowly
Revolutions
Loss of the momentary flickering
an inescapable fleeting of infeasibility
spun.
These beautiful colors
Become one beautiful web
Smashing into those hurt eyes
With every pulse, movement
Slow grey spin-spun twist-turn
familiarities modify
With every revolution.
Distortion in the most striking.
potential is no contest
confusion is adjustable when
the view falls
and sees all of those wonders
from the bottom up.
Haphazard,
Those blurs whisper that
The wind tells no lie
When it convinces a soul
To forgot what it feels like
To stand solid
Spun.