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I explain the solitude of the word itself with dictionary meanings. then I show the funnel - like a circular game of Go.
the orbits overlap like venn diagrams on which the stones roam to the points - black & white.
upstairs - I've only heard furniture move like the middle frequencies of primal war cries.
they might as well be wooden people & I'd never know, they might as well be playing a circular game of Go.
when I heard that blocked tear- ducts are common in infants I was also told that they heal during the first year of life.
with red in the white of the eyes, I used to catch hushed odysseys from adult mouth to adult mouth - a fleeting boat of voice in the air.
when sorrow has walked away a bit, whisper a little not that it should listen not that you should forget but an acknowledgement in that hushed paperwork.
leaning in for a closer look flowing down the funnel I realize its helical nature - winding away from altars.
somewhere along the road points are added to the score of the player with white stones as compensation for playing second.
