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Taru Marcellus Mar 2015
On the sandy shore of a distant memory, Euclid picked up a stick and began tracing the outline of some vague shape. At the first vertices he was interrupted by a hissing sound. Looking down in horror, what initially appeared a stick slowly coiled around his forearm and sank its teeth into his veins. As he watched the ocean spread its depths, he felt the sharp pain of platelets separating from plasma. Euclid walked into the gaping void and awaited reunion. Waves folding around him , his last sight was of a naked woman; she had the curves of a triangle.
Surrealism
Taru Marcellus Mar 2015
erratic eradication
rationalizing radicals
misled by education
realign your tactical
  Mar 2015 Taru Marcellus
Overwhelmed
what comforts can you offer
to a person who smiled
when he was told

“you’re dying”

and he lived?
Taru Marcellus Mar 2015
there is sunshine in the foreground
and foliage in the backdrop
the green is what makes the scene
the lighting is what gives it emotion*

this picture is framed on the wall and has been for some time now. it has been viewed and passed and viewed and passed on countless occasions. this particular day, is the first time he has seen meaning in it. He wonders if it is in fact the first time he's viewed it. There is freedom in this picture. Under the layers of dust it's collected through the years, there is a fresh perspective. That is the meaning. It has nothing to do with the scene and everything to do with the lighting. He has a sudden urge to be outside and so he is. He watches his breath as he exhales. There is snow on everything- the cars, the lamp posts, the fences. He inhales the contrast of the white snow and the midnight sky. And wonders which is more like him.
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