Thursday, March 19, 2009

Whither Words of Narcissus-X?

Metamorphosis of ephemeral hills sends liquescent streams burbling until, swashing, they rush into linear caverns of uncertain destiny.

Narcissus-X ponders: What fate awaits words. After mind forms and fingertips press in digital reality, where do they go?

Do words wait: patient, passive, til they are read?

Do they weep in dark servers?

Or are they mere crystallized essence of Narcissus-X, flashing into metaphysical impressions on distant screens?

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