Friday, November 14, 2008

28

26 keys, no 28, with which I hope to create magic. Alphabets, space bar and full stop. 28 notes for a strange form of music played. 28 ingredients of a brew. 28 colours of a frenzied piece of art. 28 nights in which the moon goes from nothing to nothing.

The music of words.. The music lies neither in sound, nor in pattern, but in what they evoke in the space within.. In how they can make the mind contemplate itself. In how they question and answer. In how they tear apart and reassemble. In how they plunge into sorrow and console. 28 shades of grey. 28 vials of poison. 28 drops of tears. 28 fragments of silence. 28 contractions of your heart.

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