and saw off the horizon
of my minds myelin-vision
the veil, a most zenith scrysm

i sat and lay, one thrown entry
of each good-for-bad trancing sewn
threw that shush-ruggish veil's-under lining

condensed the fraey, of dust-canes done
my tearings shred the fabrics
and now all is but sound, a feeling

i'm lost, to the breeze in my bones
all that is thrown, found in my wind
i shudder, veiling hearts-kind

my mind is a'shade'in