Talking into nothingness, deciphering an echo’s body language. Reflections in tandem to various facial contortions, recognized in repetition, forgotten if otherwise. Imprints of rolling eyes replay the snarky dialogue which took place to a self imprisoned as myself. Sprayed Windex outside a glass eye, saw improvements in the pupil forever contrasting to include special fractals, designating the importance of routine corrections. Included is when Pagliacci added white grease paint to his forgiving tone, hoping his complexion would resemble the moon during a solar eclipse. A Moment all too human, resulting in a sad clown losing his red nose.

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