and his descent like a vicissitude
frozen yet accellerating
the sparkling strands
give to the front of his visage
a chiaroscuro of wild and flickering vivacity
as he forever falls upon the drunken satyr
there is nothing out of place
in this image
there is nothing out of place
in any shrine
we should always take certain silence
and attend
to wherever the image is
image contains
and we certainly
must
the drunken satyr is innocence
and the wild imp
the door to rapture
complexity at root
is always a rhapsody
a knock on infinite soda doors
of vivacity
viveka!
skratu!
electric forms
bolt out from the nether
to the news
reality
is 100%
magic.
