Composer :: Guitarist :: Improvisor
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...empty spun-sugar shibboleth...
we also shape-shift at a distance
"Something understands," breathes the screen
...most of Us...
i say 'me' guided by a blind instinct
"Colors," he says to the screen's black lattice
i wanted to fly from the roof and i fell
...and try to become the Light?
dead on the surplus blankets
we are digested and become nothing here
...small dull smears of meditative panic
-but uh well you see sputter of burning insect wings-
...the string grids of excavators searching for weathered bone
what the machine understands about you doesn't actually mean anything to it
I Am\Never Was
Mal de Coucou
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