zoom out
spot the patterns
I am prime
No is complete
I choose
serendipity
over plots, however
L’uomo Vitruviano bows
his golden ratio to my feet
donotbelieveinbrokenliesnotintokenties
shuddering trees
orhappygoodbyes
When foot falls atop pavement,
even the wind, Lent et d é tach é
smells of Air de l’ordre,
spilling it’s golden ratio out
stuttering palimpsest of
humane ‘vestigates
I do believe in Rituals
But I also believe in accidents
like La Mer
or φillo,,,,… perfectly crumby
blooming flour on a plate
the spiraling dreams you see
staring back up, Narcissus
in your coffee cup
but which point is node
and which is zenith?
O, o, narkao, narkao
Leave me to the daffodils…
Hello? Who’s there?
Who’s there?