Savagely creative, deeply mirrored specks found through so many eyes and when love burgeons, as it always does, and Pluto starts to shake, vibrates and rattles like the rattle of the heart, when the reflection of this seraphic, savory chaos becomes impossible to see, and this unknowing does its Radio City tralalala dance from head to toe, ruffles its wings, kicks up its legs, the dance takes over.
The well of which I am, in which I find myself in gorgeous apocalyptic swim is neither here nor there, is the conglomerate of ether this, ether that, of a cosmos of feelings, of questions, of the moment mystery is relinquished, this well is swirling madness.
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