A closed timeline curve plasters walls
with canary flyers opening to the fluidity
of dreamscapes . . . Everyone is inked . . .
in solidarity . . . the word out is beyond scary
looping back onto itself . . . painstakingly
slow black-and-white panning
squeezing scripts to fit the moment . . .
the experience . . . a thousand voices . . .
You raise your hand and are dropped . . .
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| Kelly Boesch |