Life like an animation, maybe

If there was film in our fingertips we could conduct an orchestra of live long days. Yes, I can see it now. Beautiful as god's breath they swirl out, those multifaceted heartstrings, shimmering coral, theophosphatic blue, knitting into a scarf of recollection, reality, the stuff of dreams, the stuff of now. Always behind the snapping beaks of scissors angling downwards, their beady eyes a fulcrum with destruction as its apple. But we would always outrun their greedy mouths. Oh that this twisted mind should be mined! I want it to delve deep and for that ore to be inexhaustible, to put the vor in voracious.