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in the forest there grew a single tree

to have a mind that is at once autumn and spring
wasteland and paradise;

but who will set the flame to my roots
and who will melt my diamonds back into tears?

it is as though I am dragging myself through a long slow late dream
and my shell is broken
even now spilling black inky liquid that might have become stars or words
across cracked pavement

and the sky is rusted

a growl lower than thunder
lupine motor machinations searing my chest

and I swore
and I swear

this is not
how it ends


fear of this
being our last tralala la lah

the madman’s finger twitches
already restless
shadowing the button

i’m trying to enfold all those I love
into the binary slipstream but

my heart is racing

the rats & dreamers have nowhere to go

&why are we not angrier?
why are we not

my heart is slowing

identifying masks

pushing away almost everyone I care for

or letting them be impaled upon the spines

trapping all the dreams inside with my hands around their swallow throats
suffocating tight


also forms of security through obscurity


Christmas crowds converging in a sea of careless whispers

no wonder I’m going mad