I eat, meet, and sleep
in your shifting attitude;
for while you sat, I observed in first and full circle.
Reality's cipher is now followed by its faithful protocol,
and in digital frames I find myself slowly erasing myself
of all the fears and worries of mortality.
Yet do I not hide?
Here is a maze muddled true lies on the shelf next to a
coriander container for the scent of heralds and queens of hearts.
(?:H:15:16:32|15.3.011:Y:?] © c.thomas.carter
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