I don’t have time for this,

this magic moment,

surprising it’s


and lost in the afterglow.


It was never

about the act,

the swale,

the tongue,

the improvising;

this was always

an artifact,

proof of our civilization.


Come to me.

Lay next to me.

Stare at the sky,

decoding the clouds

and swift in revenant.

I light up

like a neon sign

when you flick my switch

and drip down my skin.



all hope

and grip the steel again;

there’s no alternative.

We are adrift

and in the absence of law,

there is you

and me

and the aftermath.


Peaking at the crescendo.




























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