dream sessions II

the obliteration buckles down. the refraction slides in. light into the corners. bending time. the oldest of stops. my first grey hair. the twitch of a muscle. a negative space mistake.

the nose you had. the nose you’ve always had. the nose you have now. sharpens the pictures. cuts my escape in half. as i just roll my eyes. over the flight. and away to measure the earthquake. a job well done. but the shouts from your father, how your skin spelled his name, tan and polished, just blankets the room with his Hawaiian-shirt-fears. vacation was always on the other side. away from the truth. away from the frames of ivory tusks. captains of ego. white walls of conceit. that just allowed the killer in you to heal. and march forward. to an unfortunate youth. awaiting the arrival of your hands. permanently covered in blood.

i’ve never flown this close to the ground before.
it was off-putting to feel my feet skim the tiles of your palace.

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