specks. whorls, threads and dots.

muscae volitantes

you are my little friends.

i gaze at a white space and watch you dance.

flickering in my vitreous fluid they live a life of their own.

do they care? lets’s not anthropomorphise it but it would be nice to think they see what i see. i wish i could take your picutre in extreme depth of field….

but they persist and spin away.

forever.

until my eyes close.