Logical Depth

Behold an almost votive commotion at the table of dissolute muses. Their intimacy is brittle mimicry, prismatic glances in hand mirrors and ludic tattoos. A somewhat machinic bit of obsessive-compulsive theatre (damsels de-stressed, in celebratory mode) amid the usual lavish inactivity. She who must be accommodated arrives late to the occasion. As for a continuous present, the key would seem to be the logical depth of its virtuality.