ECHOES, PART I My hands are dreaming in the piano labyrinth unweaving the guiding thread willing to be lost The texture adheres to images shaped around its poignancy stumps of forelegs growing pedals forearms transparent in their intervals Shapes diverge : and meet and the meaning deepens without a witness into its own story not about my or about your not about should or can’t or won’t because it predates anything we could suppose No wrong notes the moving focus caught up in repetitions echoes the recurrence of a theme irreducible I listen to the recording I was persuaded to make and hear my life spilled out into moving water ringing echoes : bittersweet . . ©2013 Debra-Laurent
Posted on: Tue, 29 Oct 2013 18:26:36 +0000