Sad Labels:
acceptance
,
suicide
,
time travel
The pleasant villain in his loafers. Blinds us with a Kissinger smile. Eyes are expensive. Especially when you want to see the obvious.
I rolled over and accidentally killed the spider that was sleeping in my bed. His web of dead things scrutinizing the path. We didn't wait for an invitation. We just put on the trousers. In minutes. In seconds. The sloppy butterflies. Drew their pictures. On straining roofs.
The charm of evil manifests in so many aberrations. Flashlights with dead batteries. Empty rooms full of beds. The triangle trapped in the square. Trying to stall the math. On imminent equations.
Seeing doesn't come cheap. Sight is a charity. Skin is a profession. Each one finances the other.