Around my studios coil
Hydras of light

Burning with the sound
Of the music
In my head

They speak to me
Reach out to me
Tell me to see
The light they bring

Spent hours
Their language
And tongue

I know how to speak it
But forgot it
How come?

Lest the hydras
Cease to speak
As I sit and weep
In wait for weeks

Until they return
Speaking a new
Dialect of creation
And changing colors

Of the light
In their spines
And breath
From many heads

These hydras twist
And coil around
My legs and move me
To translate for them

The things in my head
Are hydras

They make light
With the sound of thought

And when you kill one
Two more are reborn
From the fire of
Cauterizing creation

Published by Jake Thomas Shaw

Concerned with memory, currency, and destiny, I strive to capture each one as they happen. Join me and consume reality! Radio Reality. City!

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