(63) a meeting at dawn's chorus
(image courtesy of pabloxan)
we meet under the cover of darkness
at the brink of a dawn-before-dawn,
where bodies are helpless, fragile puppets
within the relentless eye of her mind.
two breathing corpses, lying in wake, awaiting
this early morning's
recital.respite. repentance.~
this day's iteration
passed by in a blink.
two girls lying panting, in the familiar room
of a boy whose life they have both known, and lived.
separated by years, and not space
with small gasps between breaths.
~
a hand reaches out, searching for another
amidst sheets soaked with sweat
and years tinged with regret
the warm embrace of flesh,
upon flesh
upon flesh—
brings a moment of comfort
as exhausted, withered hearts beat slowly as one.
~ juni
What draws one to media is the orchestrated mess, ultimately headed in a direction guided by imagination, intuition and love. Desire within an image conjured without repression articulates a manipulation between the real and the symbolic. Information and its attempt to be personified must not be unilateral, It must be continuous - there must be dialog steering the ship of imagination, intuition and love, not the past tense holding in chains previous articulations of what was once useful.
The ideal singularity is one that makes the wonders of mathematics and computation work in favour of the individual in being able to augment reality without the destruction of biological systems that assured its primordial existence. The march for territory shall not continue into the new world.
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