Lost in a present that never stops passing
Here lives the incantation of matter.
A language forever."-Begotten
If it is amicable, to share an association, akin to that of the latent
The supremacy that demands no attention
Competing in no argument
Never falling short of pregnant words
when nothing is to be said
Litter convulses
caught on obstacles strung along the road
as the wind pushes time
With irreverence
a birth occurs
the abandoned chastity of a something once pure
never to bear the same name
despite it delivering the new
Breathing and exposed
hair shorn and teeth bared
discarded by the warm pulse body
desperately watching with one long stare
Further down the road is the form
used and spent waiting for the return
this time it is the cold sterile static
oh so familiar
waiting to bring it back inside
inside the glowing crimson dream
No comments:
Post a Comment