Circular echoes. All in close proximity. That small rubber band. The opening of a pouch and its looping draw string. The bronze guitar slide in the pouch. The top rim of a coffee cup. The rubber band and bronze slide are drawn into particularly close relation, like the shadows of chickens, like the certainty of temperature extremes. The dark pouch would consume the shiny bronze slide, but cannot quite succeed, which only accentuates its slack and gaping maw. The pouch is stitched at the sides. It resembles some exotic seed. With the slide visible, it also resembles some dark, disconsolate eye – fated to be evil, but somehow lacking the appropriate resources. Instead it is the rubber band that reveals grim determination – a steady, elastic poise. It will not blink. No trace of shining. It is imbued with gummy light. It knows the legitimate power of its circular shape. Sun. What does he sun matter? What additional circularity does the sun offer?
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