{Into the thought dropped the rock rippling ripples till ripples dropped}

dancing on the edge of a moonbeam a particle of darkness drifted into soothing rays of comfort reflected off of a cold dead piece of our past that was once our body and into the slipping streams of gravity and sympathy plummiting towards our own inhibitions and stopped by our own futility destroyed with our own retention of our own ability to end our own ends and make meet our own two feet on the fluids of time and soaking up to  our eyeballs we blink and get washed over through our ocular intake valves overload our sensory sensations and slip out of the current into the simultaneity of all moments that have been and never could be until the instant that the insistence of ineptitude fell flat in comparison to the elongation of elevation excited by the mere existence of an entity who was not entangled until entwined and like twine wrapped and tightly together wound with what desired to be and desired what was in its wholeness and with precision and empathy touched slightly below the target but above and across the bar dripping wet and soaked too. 

drawn across the page like the ink with no pen pooling in public display and treating the whiteness as yet to be conquered to turn the page on the story witness to the entirety and estranged by the one thing that implanted its seed for the first time and had yet to grow strong enough to withstand the wind for the first time longer the the length of the branches that seeped from the seed growth had found itself rampant and the crop was culled and pulled back into the ground as feed for the future distributed and undisturbed by the hardest part of the harvest. 

deafness struck the diamond with a touch of delight sparkling at its sound splicing lightning into prisms from the ground and sparking fire from the frosty air frightening itself in duplicate and desecrating the dirt under its pretension into presenting its strained sanity through the gauntlet and pressing its prefabricated facets into the ashes marring its image in its own image and refracting that concept internally until it bleeds dust sharpened by a sieve and concentrated to the power of three and cleaned by the sap from the tree that used to be before the clouds split dropped the hammer into the flames of the furnace hardened to the point of brittlity and touched by the power to obliterate into particles to set adrift into the darkness.

NINETEEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-TEN