the road closes. the galling literal against the trimphant perpetuity of the allegorical. stone roads through paper terrain. never more certain than when doubt begins to lsiten.
exigent autopsies on if. eagerly interrupted. careless wizards concealed behind thick curtains.
lost's turbine presses. spilling impromptu maps like blood. the turns inflict their bruises. the intersections make their cuts. it's a murder of distances. the broken math of scars. the earnest poetry of scabs. slowly coming off.
the day consumes. with all its appetite for progress. the anchor sways. the vessel is loose. the depths give way to shallows. but we're drowning just the same.