Outside the pulses of the flesh consume our rituals,moonlight beaming into our composition, illuminating, rendering,obsolete, perhaps the awe of…
Buzzeyes open vista of an alien ceiling from an unfamiliar bedrestless reelingcrumpled sheetsblessed silencemomentary
Rain lashes the car windows as we drive through the city, matching my mood. I’m tired and my body hurts. I really don’t want to be out tonight.
Let me seek yougentlyreverentlyslowlyfor fear that this will pass