Each letter

of each word has a map of energetic point cascading over its form.

Each expression

of each face 
is a terrain of energetic connection cast out among cadent networks.

Clash and mesh of expression

in each letter written on network;
the word whittled into mesh, falling ever through the net yet linked 

so as to never fall utterly.
The dust is still the net. 

The microscopic is full of scampering energy, the curlicue and shaving of letters. The loose broken bits, the crumbs of expression, all this still charged with a breath of expression.

Each connection of each word 
of each expression, a cadenza. 

The soloist is held coherently. They are held in coherence by the breath of another.

One does not seek to banish another breath and imagine that this will allow your solo to be heard or your beauty more justly recognized. If one banishes another breather their breathless absence becomes the acceleration of your own fall.

Sometimes the sound of a falling solo is exhilarating, the 
ornate 
onomastic 
onomatopoeia which provides 
                                     an omniscient delusion 
and this can delight
until hitting the  ground

                                    dead.

But such is typical of the flagrant misuse of a musical metaphor.