Here I am echoed the imprint of lint embedded deep beneath the berber sheets.
The room hums with magnetic thrust the burst and booms sounds bouncing all around the acoustics in the hume.
Feel the tug as the ocean that is the rug ripples and rips.
Vortex grabs the lint twisting and spinning it, like a bovine in a tornado lifted like a feather in a gentle breeze.
The vacuum grabs the lint bouncing off the walls of the tube, like a whitewater rafters skipping around a cascading rill.
The suction is so intense can not think of anything this emance.
Sudden stop the filter like a rock, the visions of a semi careening into a solid wall can't compare to this at all.
Freefall to the abyss of nothingness, reminds me of oasis of loneliness.
Void of light the lint just sits in piles of endless emptiness, like being marooned on an isle with a live volcano read to spew its lava engulfing the ocean's hue.
Decay will end this day the lint dissolves into frayed shards of grey ghost lost in eternity, like the souls trapped in purgatory.