Our Hands Assembled

Many sounds collected to form
some tapestry of our varied tastes.
A ministry of audio collage:
formed as a product of cohesion.
We sat on glass for sampling
the ripple of the air we take;
immobilized by sanctity,
or something that could pass for it.
The languid roll of our chosen springs
had interwove towards something final:
over-flown and risen with steam
and indistinct in odor.
This quilted, bathing, gathered thread
that hangs along my inner walls
has found my conscious gradual
in its grasping of such shine.
And on these shores struck fine with wit,
along with practiced application,
we marvel at what comes of it:
our care and worth as taken.

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