out of view of my heart was darkness its valves could not hold. a scattering chatter of noise that more closely resembled speechless DNA non verbal double helixes than English words. and from that cacophony rose a lineage, a thing that keeps sprouting and reaching with root like tendrils that never frown after the faces they become. attached as it were to the root the octopus leggings belimb from one source one father one pattern that echoes and reverberates with that awful sound, that cacophony that more closely resembles twisted proteins or scattered code limited to four single letters than to English words. I hear it. I choose now to rip my ears from it. to not listen and therefore not hear the directions, the instructions it voicelessly struts on nodes of protein uncoated code. I am just now realizing why you can never and should never go home again. being the powerless memory of a chastened dribble rejects what is you today.

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