set the scene, you are old. As old as any one you ever knew.
isolated for the incubation of whatever they
I see eyes only, like if Lone Ranger were inside out,
where his mask is, is eyes and their fleshy environs
to the edge of brows, still effectively
arching, one by one in some
models of these hoo-min…
whatever they swabbed in my gnose… is
Things morphevolverevolve and twist to catch a beam
slipping past the shades,
in your eye, I see, that mote be me, my self,
extract my self and leave you wishing for more?
-- I got a techsupport call from a fading friend who forgot his pin, as if he knew,
I would remember all he has forgotten, we have a trust, he and I... I knew he would forget.