Dust motes swimming in the dark
Light in boxes from above
An arc forms from the ceiling where
Melodies fall
Colors spill
The audience is encircled
The dust hums in the key of G
I sing.
jm
I hear the rat-a-tat-tatt of the universal rhythm. I dance. I sing. I rap. A twenty-four hour cosmic conversation spanning the whole spectrum of imagination
2 Comments:
tears slide
creative solitude
in a circle of Hel
i dance
OMG. There you are like a wind spirit.
This is gorgeous. So simple. Exquisite.
Where did you come from, in all your appearing and disappearing?
I'm officially in love with Hel.
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