This piece sheds light on the style of riffing. This theme is around the knowledge of subjects and reflecting that in subtle languages.
The window sits lonely in the house. A glass that keeps people behind closed doors. The curtain doesn’t move. Dark windowpane on the edge of a box, making life seem hollow. There are stairs that unravel at the top of the house. You would think freedom should look like this. The basement opens up to the garden as plants dance in the wind. The shadow of the little boy pierces the sun in the afternoon. His fingers are mixed with sand as he combines water with earth. The whispers of the rain batters at this time of the year. Slow pants, that strike the ground. The sounds of the storm are like a thousand horses. There live a man and a woman in the same house. They do not know of each other. They exist because of the child they share. They hold the same space.
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Does this resonate with you?