Beauty upon my fingers
The eyes bedazzled
Mediated realities
Scopic individualities
Through a looking glass
Observing
How the leafs move
And the wind speaks to me
Through patterns and equations
Reality reduced in nothing more but a few lines
What are you to me?
What am I to you?
Besides
All there is
Numbers and constructs
Linear on a white paper
Our story bits and bytes
Our talk
Last night
01
Tell me really
Did we ever exist?
But we must have
My dreams wet,
I wake up
If this is not reality then what is?
Images on screens
Lines mediated
Comments
Like usurped
Absconded minutes
In a networked time
ΝΕΩΝ ΟΝ ΑΝΟΙΑ
2 years ago
2 comments:
Καλό μεσημέρι!
Καλό Μεσημέρι!
Post a Comment