mymask yourmask ourmask
door, shadow from front, down, down where mists set from storm... set free this thing, bring nuance, bring light he cast down impressions of himself as so much sand mymask yourmask ourmask there is where it lies, the pain, inside
pushed again, face first in amidst this all... the chin is splintered on crushed glass
the cassette spins slowly to a stop....eyes blink; lips grow soiled by coffee
what dream is this? whatveil, aching? i see into and am witnessed

colors pulse through the veins of my lids, thin flaps that hardly guide the way. in the sky my image is captured and i pine.  i spread thin wings, i will meet you there.. the forest is made of deep red wood, all could see and did. celtic strings, played slightly, gently, touched just so tenderly. i would have wept but my tears kept catching on the  smooth hooks behind my eyes. this is the profane light. white seagulls leave dark shadows on the walls of buildings high above. i keep myself focused i keep my eyes there.
mymask speed and shadows trace pattterns on the glass and i look up to meet the eyes of the man in ble, his eyes on me, cold, puzzled. his gestures are quick and he shakes his head at nothing, says "no" to nothing  ourmask

THOUGHTS STREAM BY LIKE YEARS. TIME IS GONE BEFORE YOU KNOW IT. TO BE UNCLOTHED BY THE LIGHT OF THIS COLD SCREEN. NAKED WITH WORDS AND NUMBERS TATOOED UNTO ME. IN THIS WORLD CAN YOU FIND INNOCENCE IN FLESH? DREAMS ARE DOORWAYS. CROSS THE THRESHOLD. A FEW SYLABLES ARE NECESSARY TO KEEP THE DREAM FROM SLIPPING AWAY.

A WASH OF BODIES, OF HUMAN, OF RAW THINGS, REAL THINGS AND DELUSION
in the glass i see the faces of 6 billion creatures

THERE IS NO RIGHTEOUSNESS IN YOUR CONSTELLATION OF STARS. THERE IS ONLY YOUR LIGHT IN THE SKY. THEY ARE LANTERNS SET OUT TO LEAD THE WAY. A SHAFT OF SOMTHING ILLUMINATING, STRETCHES DOWN THIS LONG TUNNEL AND CONSUMES US WHOLE. THIS IS ALL.

THE CIRCLE IS COMPLETE. THE VOICE IS ALWAYS THE SAME. I SEEM MYSELF. I AM A WELL OF HEAT AND YET I YEARN, AND YET I STEAM...

inertia of cosmos, the stopped clock and me

THOUGHTS STREAM BY LIKE YEARS. TIME IS GONE BEFORE YOU KNOW IT. TO BE UNCLOTHED BY THE LIGHT OF THIS COLD SCREEN. NAKED WITH WORDS AND NUMBERS TATOOED UNTO ME. IN THIS WORLD CAN YOU FIND INNOCENCE IN FLESH? DREAMS ARE DOORWAYS. CROSS THE THRESHOLD. A FEW SYLABLES ARE NECESSARY TO KEEP THE DREAM FROM SLIPPING AWAY.
mymask yourmask ourmask
the things i carry, beyond these bones, the bridge i saw, the bridge between us and the void sucking us down i sit on a city bus... horrified by all that is becoming me.... i stutter, i quake the ugliness shows through in the pinched and bitter faces. sour grins with lips upturned
all aching things and dark eyes search beneath the light, not simply to see, but to lok into, look through
the man in blue is talking to himself now, grows quiet now and silent, begins to speak again
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