Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Synoikismos, Diokismos

Fission, fusion, merge and scatter,
The only ingredients a witches' brew
Needs are people, crowded together,
Sedentary, migrant, displaced, broken
Into bits of poppets made for dancing
Disembodied simulations, faces
Rising out of the crowds like fishes
Surfacing in cloud-reflecting ponds.
We will meet again, if not on time,
Synchronously, if not in time
Together, then in time passing
Current across current, lips
Whispering, hips and fingers,
Bits and dreaming, we were whirled.

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