deep in the abyss of myself, i read the sunny world of ismene/bare feet in grass/words spilling across the page like bubbling champagne/insights deepening/her "textured childhood etched like a birthmark" /pausing in an arc of time like a still portrait/suspended in the beauty of awareness/ i touch her page with my eyes and images explode in my mind like shooting stars/her garden a cyberspace paradise of sunlit memories and new worlds waiting...
and in the silent and yawning past, phaedrus beckons/his madness matching mine/the darkness gapes like a new dimension where perceptions become echoes rippling over the landscape like lost phantoms/ familiar forms and futures fade/ receding and evaporating in the midst of mystery/in the mist of illusion/miles loom ahead full of emptiness and self destruction...
visions dancing between these worlds with music born of spontaneity/rescuing the silence with festive celebration/time stands still/we are on the verge of change/caught in the infinite pause of now...
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