a piece of night slouched

over--swiveled in the silk

of anonymity.

its emerald sword impaling

the earth.

to the degree its core became

a bud.

no Sun--

no Moon--

simply a cave.

holed up, and there.

just there, right there.

unseeable.

both of the wings of

nothingness torn apart

in flight.

stupendous magic--

Nirvana keeps its Word.

its Word will never go

extinct in any wilderness.

a fabric

is slowly severed--

its stitching bumps

porously.

its amalgamated hues

blur a dream sequence.

an incumbent world

edging towards slaughter.

swearing it was there at

one time.

emotions drift away

as broken continents...

seedling stars buried

in their soil.

that will rise as the

puppetry of deities.

never second

guess the wind,

it travels lightly--

yet can rip

locomotives off

their tracks.

the walls

fold neatly

like a napkin

on a  prepared

table.

spoons resting

more indifferently

than knives that

will cut meat.

there have been

many horror

shows beat to

death by the silver

of screens.

with no audience.