four can keep a secret... if three are dead. we have this theory that clearly states -
" stars will eat stars " . let the record show that Irony is the genius of a petulant mirage. an absent god.
nevertheless, we are more.
trod upon, we expand to scale the prism walls
of lost diamonds -
up to a sun that spun it all,
in the kingdom of night. you and i plod through space
to emerge from the chasm
of our graven
image.
like an anonymous fog
on a lens of opaque
mist
and dark cause.
but some nights are
bright as day...

as very many days, are not.