Curves.
Foundations.
Resisting temptations.
Expressing Heart’s love-sensations.
When I cast my ear toward the canopy
That shimmers with shards of broken glass
I hear, not the cacophony
That stikes the chords in mass,
But rather the harmony
Of what could be and was.
Therein lies the secrets to comprehending
The riddles of the multiverse.
Science, like a dream, is lending
Consciousness a verse
When perspective is ’bout sending
The subconscious’ hidden words.
Or perhaps ’tis not just the subconscious
That gets dominantly addressed
‘Could be the unconscious
Or even consciousness
Either way, no matter the source
Art is a form of expression,
Its purest course:
Obsession.
Scattered Thoughts 