now infant i is dead, what keeps you entertained?

i think i’ve killed it

i can see it deflating in the skull’s corner

all of it

no matter the think thought

speak it enough

and all perspectives

are complementary mirrors

circling the magician

and no matter where you stand

you can see the rabbit come out the sleeve

i think i’ve killed it

all of it

you know the sides of the die

you know odds and chances

you know the faces in the deck

you know no matter what is thrown

you don’t even have to catch it

because i can do that for you

but i is not stitched to you

and when you see i pulling

card tricks and rabbits from his hat

you look into the mirrors

and you laugh at all the laughs

and if i fails, then you might see

the wretch retreat to the back scenes

and as his friend you may sit beside him

but you does not have empathy

because you can know me

me, i think i’ve killed it

and seen the magic dead

and even killed the magician

just to bring him back again

because i can do that

i can be affected by all

i can bleed from wounds

and pore with pride

and find beauty in it all

while you just sits there smirking

at i, a twitching infant

over stimulated and babbling

and feeling every minute

and now you’ve gone and thought too much

and even this pretty martyrdom

just seems another trick

to keep baby i entertained

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