Tuesday Night Post #2-20 / by DBL

Random Occurrences,
How exciting a change in tempo becomes.  Some fall to every beat, myself I search the next.  A fine line occurs between free spirit and reckless action.  To destroy this box I search for it.  In a room with no walls I will find it…until then let the choices fall in the order we have to choose.

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Transposed from the Geometric
Left a temple to touch this foot
Seventh of the strand of this rope
He did see but once
An offer from this one of the other
From a position which she sat
Head tilled neck a sway
She smelled the flower that was not hers
In an image the back of a hand
Swam across the arch of this position
The eyes they tried but never wandered past
The hazel ones
Which were honest
Open with the pressure of neglect
She often seemed to belong to the company of herself
Everyone had a share of this impression sitting on a shelf
In the same room they dissolved into fluid smoke
Two colors of distinct
Sharing each a tail of discreet
In a small chamber of this draw
Few things hid
Two flew in the air of unnecessary thought
What is there but the next foot to drop