Ivory Whips - Vase CS

From Altered States...
The light sweeping of the mist betrayed something uncanny
A single operative word is missing, it’s pattering felled silent
and replaced instead with void, in need of refilling

Or better yet, a piece of parchment blank and us with chisels in hand
Carving out of memory, it’s slow cascades in the space left between
the flocks of static that we encouraged to swell around us.