X. Trappings
The decay of his memory occurs in real time.
He dropped sleep onto the floor in a puddle.
There is a tacit hem to memory.
Accent into hell. Slow poison or hopscotch.
To the spoils go the victims. Reticence is circular.
And I believe in solipsism between equals.
More piratical than practical,
I sing the wrath of the nucleus.
Previous
|
Next