a word, pick
a string of words.
a poem can be
a beaded thing, not like
a strand of pearls, more like when you stick
a threaded needle into
a bright pile of glass beads.
a pattern emerges,
an unintended result of repetition.
a single bead that marks
a beginning:
a color, or shape for
an eye to stick to.
a rhythm in
all of the static
and white noise.
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