The Act of Storing Data

Can 1’s and 0’s dance together
on a dance floor made of knotted wood
dichotomous, but swaying
to a relationship of melodies?

If these humble numbers clothed us
they might collide
the circles around waists and wrists
upended against the lines
of forearms and spines

they might explode into a dance
of memory
1’s pulled back onto the linoleum print
of a computer screen, 0’s blue-lit
in a dark meadow somewhere,
departing
in a small round boat
with a straight, bare mast, which it had won –

oh.

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