macro-fascination Egyptian suite at 11pm:

my glass whiplash beats red contraband a

gunpoint beast drawn in hot tears. six frenzies

a palmful of madness lit like candles, the ancient ghost,

jutting worms reality to nail sunbeams with corpse-paint

turning before colour ruins this icon's blistered heart.

hubs a deep brown bass written, only as tertiary as

momentary hair's brusque dragon, a magical outside.