Lead notes take the evening toward cacophony
Sutures from familiar needles thrust weighty thread through the thickest of fabric
Gathering among the ever directed eager audiences
Varied and poised to splice themselves in
Composites all played to volume
Flesh-suits on rack
Queued as the lot step out onto familiar platforms
Convoluted yet repetitious the script and dance
as heavy shadowed hands pull and push
Causing the glimmering facades to shed
as the staged lot scramble to find their next marker
Subtleties fracture these figureheads
and my gratitude goes to the unseen for clipping these tethers
Shoulders relax away from ears
and I am finally able to settle into a muted solitary serenity
A story written by another
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