the sun does not rise to enter night and leave in kindness in any nook darkness to be in its presence. and the elongated bordered endlessness that is shadow born in the walking roll of earth is not that shadow but in the prism darkly that is inside the head bounding like a jack rabbit in a bleached grey meadow over the river beds and ruts of the brain. the transparent black jetsam that purrs and splashes as a catfish and then shrieks dishonest chimerical foolery’s. so besotted in the fight, self black as night drags me and love into and under the unforgivable bowl of the blaspheming man. man never at home as spirit entombed in skin. never at home and only subdued by the fullest murderous intent to undue his own being.

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