just another beginning for a reflection that's out worn its welcome
two figures walked in honesty
and i could feel deafness

gnawing at my fingertips
if i could gnaw my fingertips


impatient itching a growing mutiny what is left of flesh slowly,
beaten down by an unchecked brow
if i could force a conclusion

then i would breathe in consequence
if i could dream in consciousness


bleached out sands, oubliettes, the endless white rooms of mansions

tease a prayer- remember to forget


a thousand forms of apologies, anything to escape this fifteen minute dream.