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 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
You mimic a monstrosity
Your disposition runs like ink

These ticks become habitual
These prisons become virtual
These masks become complete

Images designated for dissection

New found suits for dissenting

Legends in lethargy and memory high hysterics

Neatly astute for the sake of navigation

They mingle like limbo inside brickwork bunkers

The embodiment of human discernment

Madness makes moves

I see the eyes reassemble for nonsense

You steal my time for a story we have already forgotten

I brace because my jaws are acutely inclined for folly

I try to resemble accommodation but fall short like the gods intended

I hear their laughter

but its my own obscure orchestration

Yours are not mine but I shatter with the rest

My favorite parasite
My favorite sanctuary

I love you all inside this room soaked sickly

Indifferent and discarded

Now and again we find the time for creation

Spring loaded sky stuck symptoms

Trampoline tactics for these less buoyant patrons

We figure the fabrications come complete

Declare another dysfunction
Society breaks the hesitant

Hold the moments hostage like so much decoration

Happier times splattered while a perfect storm swells

Satirical strings attached for an elusive heaven

I now know the we that became you

— The End —