lives inexorable empty & only you there, & that only fragments & dust. every temporary being we shed like skins no longer needed because they have forgotten their meanings. the sun is in the heaven her psychotic dance – she moves so slow i barely notice & light is there for hurting. thus here is the abject, the leaf in me arrogant as every other answer ever.
still you protect me from morning & its swords, its murders, the psychopath sun. i might say i contain multiplicities once, but i am Celt so none of them get on very well together & we only want to burn down the world & zombie dentistry, illusions &, to sing love ugly & very much out of tune.
between my ribs every word forgotten. there is a terribly patient suffering, it waits for the sun to come back, it is the same…
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