Monday, November 24, 2025

Pluck-marked time passes
into strum-lingered minutes,
discrete fading into infinite,
minor ideas developing into
movements and revolutions,
keys that turn the ignition
and unlock cluttered passages,
minds and mines mapped, made
open and ours, opened hour
upon hour, flowers unfurled
and scribbles rewritten into
pixels and bits, bitemarks
healing into scars, becoming
permanent, we imagine.

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