Lucid and forgettable, now is no time to be dancing
amongst scintillas of the alien.
.
Jaunty refrigerators, livers broken and jaundiced,
Nothing puerile in motion, nor flitting.
But this, this is perusing the finite. She,
or indeed he, will know.
.
Tributaries and creeks in fond lineation
smother lovers with sails.
This chaos will become capitalized.
Peace is restless in noise and noise in
anything, everything but silence.
.
I shall be Chaos.
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