When Goldberg
heard THE MASTER
play
He heard old tumbling into
New
chords careening
twisting
and turning into each other
a labyrinth set
to sound
Three centuries and
a
Quarter
later
I watch
the repeating hills
lock arms
across the land
cascades
of aquamarine almost to my
toes
in the park the
synchronicity
of lovers
walking
bodies gently swayed by
joy
Fingers
finding the safety
of other
fingers
A simple yet
profound
Geometry
words of love like
algorithims
Binary confessions - you are
mine I
am yours -
A story
as old
as the first dream
with no end
only
Variations
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