swallowing
everything.
existence is merely the illusion of light inside a void
a narrative projected onyo the screen of darkness without
restraint
dreams are swallowed by the void and
make love to it
the children of souls and minds and nothing
*******
of hate

non-euclidean
stairsteps
breaking the sky
too strange to be horrible
yet too horrible to be
real

and so it falls apart
our projection shown for what it is
threadbare and disintegrating
revealed physically in our bodies
like everything we believe.

the desert of the real is upon us
and we are drowning in thirst.