Shale chasing water

by Curing the Comon Cliche   Aug 16, 2012


When time turns to granite, immovable,
you will be there. A quartz crystal ribon through me.
Dancing. Flickering in scattered fragments.
Jagged and geometric.
You are what picasso saw.
Each shard of you exposed, all at once.

For the ribcage axiom:
dancing stars are fragile things.
Comet dust swept up by us.

I break like shale under you.
Disintegration is the price:
carve me like Niagara.

You keep missing Fibonacci
and Mandelbrot.
We are in the fractal.
And we are the fractal.
Celebrate.

Disintegrating is the price.

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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by StandStill

    What a peculiar place to read such a lovely piece.
    Always, always. xx

  • 5 years ago

    by StandStill

    What a peculiar place to read such a lovely piece.
    Always, always. xx