dropping

The beads of the music I am listening to
separate, and fall bouncing
in a pleasing chaotic percussion
finding the distance between
gravity’s force and the kinetic force embedded inside
influenced by each of their
material
physical
locked-in
attributes.

Music is lovely in its
unhinged yet
scientifically measurable
pinging, against the neurons in my brain,
themselves exploding in a barely discernible pattern of
falling
into spaces and
bouncing between constraints;
trading energy of sorts
for pleasure.

Containing the movement in a cube that is this room
allows the bouncing to
reverberate
like the old computer game
I once coded in two dimensions
but is now in three…
four? If each movement left a trail…
would the pattern be beautiful? Or would the lines
tangle hopelessly
like my thoughts today?
bouncing in constraints that seem too small and yet
too large and too loud but somehow still
necessary

pearls unchained unconfined and
slowing
to
a
musical rolling on an unforgiving floor.

Energy lost,
and the lines fade slowly...

so I hope that the memory is pleasurable
or
that the transfer happened in some alchemical
magic
having to do with the forces
of gravity
and the locked-in attributes
of
all
that
drops

through the spaces we hold inside.