Masquerade Ball

Science-fictioned separation of smiles.
Paper partitions,
placing distance,
dividing missions,
cutting crooked incisions
into the fabric 
of our very essence,
which is… HUMAN. 

Welcome to the Masquerade Ball,
on a floating blue ball.
Where health is debated, 
breath gets stagnated,
minds placated
while souls are raided.  

The show has begun.
The web is spun.
We are spinning,
spinning,
spinning in the ceremony 
of the Great Awakening. 
Where all that matters 
is
the connection of fine fibers
connecting writers
through super-cyber 
poetics.
Sequencing through prophetic genetics
with beautiful aesthetics,
taking us 
back to sacred geometric fractals,
those shapes that are holier than mackerels, 
where shackles have no voice. 

The mask
What goes on, must come off. 
Nothing we hope for is micro,
nor is it soft.