losing it, losing all
and sleep came in
a six hour flight.
thrown clear of the
abscessed daylight
and losing longing
early in the night.
and longing for err
little thing to walk
by, wigglin' and
they say we were
friends. but not quite
in understanding of
this concept of that
word thrown clear of
pitying mouth and
lossless droning voice.
losing it, losing all
and err thing ever
considered truth or
actuality. though, and
in truth of truth, these
are wasted words.
wasted for purpose out-
side of another. no pur-
pose to any other when
isolation was formed as
moral dogma, when prefe-
rence is towards burnt hands
in place of yard-stick lashings.