Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Word's Play

The word mnemonic mumbles memories in a hushed sheer whisper. I can only track traces of truth, microbes of meaning. Really, I'm long lost. Still, I nod knowingly, pretending I've picked the pentimento, the ravishing red crux of the word's (the olive's) core.

1 comment:

Electric Blue said...

This gave me chills. And sent me to the dictionary. Pentimento... my new favorite word.