A Symphony

The silence was deafening

But not in the ways you'd assume

The only tension was the desire for it

To stay - to hold it close but loose enough to breath

No matter could compare in such enormity

A heaviness but not of weight

Of a craving to hold a scene in suspension

Pausing the progress

Stalling the growth

Like watching a dinner scene

You look away and miss the punch line

But the punch line is someone leaping away, jumping off the cliff, diving in

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Immutable Forms

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We Are Our Collection of Things