Friday 7/26/2013 12:10:00 AM

maybe i'm yellow and the blue is just imagined. he has his super heroes and i'm okay with what remains of fading fairy tales. perhaps i pressed too deeply on the fold. and the paper had no choice but to remember. the flame that lures the insects to their suicide.

the simple art of choosing. if it hurts enough. whether the shame still fits. stiff corspes and pliant worshippers of these tangled puppets.

maybe the stage is choice enough. the corrosive wagers of solitude. raising their voice. for the dead to hear.

lost breadcrumbs.and candy houses. boast the shadows. the empty syringe. the folding muscles. the surrendering skin.

a simple lever. fritcion easily solves her. a decimal place. the math of moments. cradles the hours in its fists. the punch. the frivolous guile of absent gods. burdens us all.

this vacant freedom whispers treason.

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