Beyond Emptiness

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Asemic Noir

He munched on a garlic herb pita chip, as her gaze froze on the photogram . The violin played “I remember Paris” – neither dared touching it as the music floated up into the stark room. The desk lamp flickered in a panic of foreshadowing; “perhaps it is time to consider our options” – then, like a stranger in the night, the ceremonial spear flew between them, striking the brass ballerina, now all bets were off the table and scattered on the parquet floor…..

 

fallen torn pieces

make such a pretty picture –

austere edges stare.

 

Anyway, that’s how they remembered it.