apathy is a rightfully

peculiar equanimity--

growing indifferent

to overexposure.

filming period pieces

of weather.

too still for any life.

you'd better be too

dead to play the part

enough to be overlooked.

peace must consider you.

moth-eaten light

listens to the shafts

of feedings.

tear through sackcloth.

worn by elder

nights wedging in

chasms for a sleep

that may never come.

a blind master's

rainbow-respirations

cover a forest of bones.

overseeing future

incarnations.

he is highly reverenced

by where even space

cannot enter.

a background of

Matissean reds--

(foremost an apple

of many swelling

wantonly).

among other fruits:

tables, chairs, couches,

rugs.

luxuriant bloodletting.

nuptial birds of paradises

lost, encaged.

framed by a submerged

foreground.

an amulet of Blue Pearl

sinks delicately into a chest--

as wildfires burn at the

bottom of its ocean.

while thundering waves

mince and elongate the

windowy surface above.

the Blue Pearl spits out

the starry image of its

truest north.

against dilapidated walls

a pnuema's frayed slither

undoes skin a blush dead.

moistening motions of

maggots gleaming darkly--

bathed by airless confines

overspilling between an

untamable essence.