• The music, the flesh.
    It's ripping me apart!
    The luminescent, the camera, the man with no name.
    Who all bare witness, to a crowded hell.

    Twiddling wind, interfering with my noise.
    Lower, softer, tone bleeding.
    Cares wash past, leaving curious youth.
    Things may not seem apparel.
    Though things are different, in casual ways.

    Farther through the triumphant ranges.
    Cataclysms, stalagmites, torture.
    Everything deep into the belly is horrific.
    Cling, the sound of movement.
    Caressed, into the blindness.
    Reality speaks no tales.

    Far strikes a fire.
    Breathless, and amused, caretakers stand in awe.
    Notes like crazed angels, dancing like bats.
    The grotesque vision of in-certainty, daze though my cranium.
    Bodily punctures, wait to unfold.
    Explain the emission, of the instant clarification.