Thicket Of Words
The thicket is dense, impenetrable
The girl searches and peruses the tendrils and stalks of memory
The earth is leaf littered with discarded thought
Which wends its way down streams of confusion
Into cascades of neglect
The girl is lost but she has a sharp mind
With which she cuts
The words and images fall away into oblivion
The shimmering voices of the forgotten fading into non-existence
A realization suddenly starts from the undergrowth
disappearing into the cirrostratus of wisdom
The brush echoes to epiphanies and recollections
The flashes of insight fly all around her, buzzing softly
At last, the girl finds what she is looking for
That special sound, just the right word
it lies curled up in a swathe of abstract design
she carefully picks it up and weighs it in her hand.
Before turning
And leaving the thicket.















Devious Comments
Comments
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Can a human being fly like a humming bird if they consume enough candy, frappucinos, and white chocolate covered espresso beans dipped in powdered sugar? >_>
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Space Dementia. [link]
With which she cuts"
nice.
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i less than three myself. x]
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Art is a telephone line to the psyche. You just have to speak the right language.
[link]
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