RV:  Stalking the unborn target

You feel it, don't you?
How the air trembles,
how the Moment stands poised on its toes -
back arched
arms weightless
face turned to the sky, expectant -
like a dancer on the cusp of her fall...

Fall, then!
The world's about to open
again
like an Eighth day
before your screaming senses...
Only this time,
the sound of rushing wind
shall be your Logos.

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