Luxury is so, so temporal,
So subjective.
Relapse of luxury.
Collapse. Collapse. Collapse.
Vanished by sunrise
Like the scent of jasmine blossoms.
Do I harbor deficiency?
Deficiency harbors much fruit.
Out of the way,
Out farther than Father,
The forest feeds on breath.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
Natural death looms over natural life.
Natural life broods over stillbirths.
I am a cyst.
I cannot distill ambition.
Twist my skin.
Twist. Twist. Twist.
Wring my dreams of your stench.
Function and design held hostage.
Intuitions pupil crusts over
Passively.
Pacifist?
No, no, no.
Just a coward.