On the shore

Iteration

Wave, wave, wave

Jagged rock losing its edge over iteration

Round pearls washing ashore

Reflecting the also round moon

My cigarette also without edge

A custom started thousand of years ago

In a hut with bush leaves and shamans

Until the iteration concentrated

Into a filtered cylinder

Iterations washing ashore a round consciousness

Edges on the rise

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Betsy Calabaza

Betsy Calabaza

13 Followers

blooms — crazy rants masked as abstract experimental philosophy. s/o CS Peirce