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Rectangle of MicrofictionsUpper Left Corner

***this post is going to be completely updated!

Cocooned within the picture. Each individual, yet a part of the same. Linked, but disconnected. A Piece of a piece of a piece. The face appeared before them easy to see: eye socket, and the extended nose, which led to the lack of mouth.  Rather curious, as it was still speaking. Countering. Facing. Vased in. Hour-glass. Abstract. Lost in its own curves. A candle with an irregular mold. Viewing overhead the mess to come is a curse & a blessing depending on your interpretation.
Words and meaning. The way it’s said, pronunciation is key. So is spelling, & grammar. But all of that is worthless without some meat/fruit/juice, whatever, take your pick, to keep the reader going. The light shines down through a neon sheen. Goosebumps rise on the thighs, a steady hand, & controlled smile meet yours. The Moon greets the Sun. Creating complicated, dramatic, compelling lives for people you encounter on the bus, only to blink it all away upon exiting @ your stop. A sly fox donned a purple hat, met a pig, and jumped continents, only to zip & kick into a quaint boxcar.
Sometimes mistakes make the picture. Other times they fuck up the whole thing. “Love becomes you, Dear. Your face glows & eyes smile. See you know it. Watch you blush. Isn’t love Surreal?” A character,  yes quite A character. Running along

On time, or not.

Night shows no bounds while you’re in flight tonight, quick, before the sun we fright.

Wave—& foam writhe to no end & so does the ink, but in such more restricting, yet freeing ways. Both eternal & needed.
A cat scratching on a post. A hand nudged across a table. A way to bridge the way one painting was randomly started & became immense. Loopy words & sloping meaning rush to fill the shore of understanding. Hey square, look over there. <–>I don’t care.But you’ve come this far. Screw this, I’m taking the ship back home. Elvis lived & died for Rock-N-Roll. Even tho he died clutching a toilet roll.
I form sentences to say to those people with zipper lips but then I delete my text in fear of getting stuck in their teeth. I thought I saw an Angel in the scuff of mud from your shoe on the bathroom wall. Her wings swept back, her hair white, her body cloaked & draped. Will I ever wipe her away? “La vie Boheme,” we sang through the streets. “La vie Boheme,” I scream, alone.  “La vie Boheme,” I hum while working on other writing. Blue: Rich, royal, sad, consuming, gentle, calm, boy, or girl, baby, blueberry, Ultra-, Aqua-, marine. And all the glorious shades in between.
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