This supple sensation,
like drowning in a picture of your eyes,
glittering crystal prisms.
It acts as a propellant of muy mind,
sending ripples accross the glassy surface.
Watch for disturbances in the ice-black depths.
Murmurs, like the melody of metal chimes;
tenets whose function is lost
among the dull echoes of slumber.
Thoughts disintegrating into piecemeal mess
like rained-upon cardboard boxes.
Noise streams from their neat paper envelopes.
Rule of thumb dismemebered,
remembering the message concealed in the jittery hum of the vaccum:
Nothing is safe, nothing is sure.













Comments
You did very well with the limitations.
--
g = a ^ u
--
Avoid the world, it's just a lot of dust and drag and means nothing in the end.
-Kerouac
--
"A maiden running from a Prince?...
Does that make sense?!"
--
"A maiden running from a Prince?...
Does that make sense?!"
Especially this....
"Thoughts disintegrating into piecemeal mess
like rained-upon cardboard boxes.
Noise streams from their neat paper envelopes."
I was wondering what people would write about cardboard and envelopes, and I see the water in there too
And this
"This supple sensation,
like drowning in a picture of your eyes,
glittering crystal prisms."
Gorgeous!
I got the idea from a calender picture of a river when I was making up the contest hehe looking around the room for thoughts hehhe
--
g = a ^ u
I'm glad you like it. Many other takers yet?
--
"A maiden running from a Prince?...
Does that make sense?!"
--
wherever i go she goes..
--
"A maiden running from a Prince?...
Does that make sense?!"
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