A most liturgical darkness pains the spidery
veil of prey and prayed upon star.
Hardwon quietude differentiates obsolete
centers to contrive an offing.
Timeless hands go up in deflection, as to
abort the scene whose spelling could not
boast a mouth synchronous with them.
The growth spurt of insult to injury
topples the bucket of well water down the
throat.
Alas, at morning...alert me to my stable,
that I may act in accordance.