Piano chords hung from

philosopher’s clouds, high

above ground. Pendulous,

searching , breathless and waiting

for the right psionic connection,

the momentous spark, the proper

amount of obstinacy, slender

fingers of exact, wanted length,

and bone marrows made of

pure musicality. Once

they had chosen their target after

thorough deliberation they

would free


upon their mutual consensus

like shooting stars, descend and


onto the artist’s heart-field with

meticulous precision, followed by

explosions of

spilled light, coming alive,

immediate immortalizations

of fast drumming keys and everlasting

crescendos, sacrosanct melodies

stretching skyward into the depth

of the universe, interwoven, seamless,

worlds united, overlapped, becoming





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