the sense record

Spool 9


upon their eyes

their ears the

sense record so

full of taste

and touch too

a finger recoils

spells out smells

the keyboard translates

makes larger space

a place for

listening is a

plot for making

this cold November

nearly gone but

not forgotten I’ve

just typed memento

mori my dear

how they linger

live in they

realms the very

haptic whorl bright

senses color me

now a larger

faculty help me

chime in refracted

ways waves particles

of speech I

say it blue

before the witness

letters mind mapping

days mine blend


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