anahata

Let it come as true things do, eyes wide and senses sharp, hands reaching out and into the dark. Total lack of the last. It came on too fast. Reach for it. Reach for it. Take it. Throw it against walls and through windows. It crashes. It came down through the sound and stirred shit around. The Velvet Elvis and the 3D Virgin Mary sit, ripped and wielding whips, weaving words with their wet whiskers, worn out whispering “we made it, we made it,” Choose to leap or to linger a little longer. At least the dogs smile, fuzzy like furry like funk, crunch crunk. It slides like water glides like matter across mirrors that watch while we rumble and roar. You made it! You’re here! But where does the sound end and where does it begin? We must begin, for you are just seven years in age and not yet in a cage meant to protect your eyes from this HIGH INTENSITY ULTRAVIOLENT LIGHT! It unravels and unveils, valiantly revelling in the reeling vision devoid of precision. You couldn’t know how it would go, it takes its time to unwind, it reaches in from behind to find
energy
and synergy.
Now let it be.