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flaming telepaths
Lauren Levin

-the garden party- she cannot say how she does many of the things that she knows how to do, tying a knot, one example, recognizing a color as red or for how her mind grips : self-rhetoric around a new figure deflates into a field of cognition inbetween landscape and still-life burning with non-meaning among all the lights on a see-saw of non-meaning the element common to all festive occasions: the certainty of many: she's distracted: for how her mind grips change her focus, texture to the second image of a psychic hologram to sensible chrysanthemum composed: the broader garden outrange flood of inconstant to constant rises. mesmeric sympathy, an entangled system - soft wind in it - 2 people in a flat, with, she's with the forces of hand beyond either moving back and forth she sees this all info tagged by their eyes not green without the light the talkers visualize a fixed future surrounds branded on them by others Like "face changed time" the child's running again, she won't ponder the ripples her appearance sets off in others, those nicely textual (her white hair with aging yellow tones the very forelock/fetlock of evil) she's young and the whole takes precedence over the detail only an area of color, that is, abstract of course the spiral pattern curled round the dancer's body she's largely excluded from hasn't the past of it -she fears the flood of inconstant vertigo common to festive occasions waves on her forehead movements performed by the wind ascribed no different meaning as those made by people physical movements are swimming centaurs as if frames are parentheses and a mind to each of actions the yellow wall draws sun largely down into glasses. mother brushes her hair from her face waves on her forehead oddly frowsy or troubled chrysanthemum composed petals slender then, you see. cracks and it becomes ancient a black halo ("pert, half seen from the rear, oh i always enjoy myself") the child's flighty. her brain is the spectator and birth of many situations. a theater starts thinking of a word to help her now: (a subsequent single view for one facet) she's in the ocean now. slapdash (for the one thing, guests fade, real stimulus stops the imagined) she has feeling, that a stimulus approaches and recedes rough and jagged symmetry between grainy woods on a cliff, the direction of sunlight washing eye direction the actual twinkle the motion sensation - filled in as well this updated sense of herself, a hypnotist's device - the water's extraction of edges (that thought is a scene, a limit, seeable: the machinery allows completion dealing out corners No action easily won, or starts out without radiation, change, reflection, or conduct mapped from another distribution of land where skimming feet go over foam some birds blend in some bright in theater Say she came back slapdash - but the detail scales (now) from the grove of column-figures person hand emerging largely from his cuff his spiking shoe his flexed foot or his flexed, bent posture she's learning to see these postures with aggression with her hand pressed firm into a china plate to cool More satisfied here, her lens, in the simply flat, satisfied flat lip across - his hand thrown to the back of his head with a cigarette resting heavy there, counterposed by hand at hips . Some set-back . The on-looker tends to fall further back into the fold. The one is visualizing a tattoo while the other describes a tattoo in words in his head: beach scene scenery , flats painted by her for our moving. She hasn't the past of them, the lithographs sprayed with gold dust and the watcher the dust, sand swirled swirling up. Her blind spots filled in: simply covered with paint, or wallpaper in the baroque of ocean (stripes) or the flames of ocean or flambeaux. Thinking of a phrase to help her cover. An image is as a spatial map of property (change, reflection) mapped from another's. she has their memories, is that fair (to yoke a whole species of thinking) Personal cells inside her become clutched to one view of a character. Her secret satisfaction in discomfiture re-awakens their long forgotten memories. Re-invest essences in themselves, with particles it makes them in a ribbon collapsing in spirals spinning on itself as it moves forward a buzz in combustible, cognitive dreams: the gold toenails of pleasure - the person, the person interrupts at the staircase looking over, that quiet moment discussing family news. --what i kiss , a symbol of friend. For red stripes of pleated check, shadows on the columns walking stands atop a green field the figures stacked in talking have locked elbows and she directs him towards him knowing he tries to name it or some are meandering brushy shadows across the chest of the flat smile

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