Subtlety employs all works in
progress...as silence resounds
angels in snowy landings.
How close can reality get before
it begins to reside within that which
it stands before?
What to do with all these impositions
that make or break the walkable line?
Perhaps...allow the spilling of the proverbial
cup, that it may overflow...engender the already
engendered Chaos...(your Face was already wet
before you remembered to face the Shower Head)...
cheers to Harmony!
There's this deep impulse to walk until collapse...
akin to a wild horse running to death...motion seems
a necessary evil.
Call it excess energy...superfluous stone to sculptor's
block...a burning candle keeping pace with the prayed for.
Enter death's repose...motioning motionlessness...
for the first and last time...All Subtlety becomes overt.