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
3 years ago
 




 
 
 
 
