Words and faces click into place there

are instants of magic in which we

hear and see a smooth transition of a glove

turning into a gloved


Ennui is smoke and mirrors

the machine has many shapes and it will toil

until you match it with its singular lever

the lever is life in entirety

and every lock has its key

we gnash our teeth at the wrong messages

but we dwell on only for the offchance

that we may sample the bittersweet moment

of slots meeting, perfectly, their furious counterparts.


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