Artifacts
I browse your pages; read between
the lines of constant mutation.
One definition after another, studied
in detail, and conquered by erasing.
My mind deleting prisons of time
and “secret” oppositions; thoughts that
tend to ignore your secular inclinations.
I wonder, if I could take off and search
for a new lingo; a collective definition
that manufactures a silent universe -
our connections; without artifacts,
without the museum of communication.
I remember now, Sanjusangendo,
the sun and the silence of drums
Deborah Russell, © 2006
Fort Collins, Colorado
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