cZ

I was offered cubic zirconium. I was not dazzled nor did I forget that its shine and luster are thefts of the light from my own eyes multiplied in the desire that fuels greed to behold just one more. It is but an iteration of the increased density of the placating illusion that has no name or true sustenance. It is an inescapable de’vil, a repository shaped from depravity cold and the feeling in the sound of alone that opens and closes its doors in whimsy without compulsion until the very out becomes in and there is no more out as compulsion replaces whim. What was with ease an egress becomes so dire that definistration becomes the losing while simultaneously the winning. I have been here before. I know the howl of wind the dead in black the chill of winter sitting on the haunches of the revenant cat that has jaundice yellow eyes, broken tail, fractured back and splintered nails that rest in scabs in repose just beyond the foyer behind the basement door. So I roll the touch. I look behind the possibility and see the dalliance then the fray that has burned me. The equation that once solved me in five factors of eight making right what is mathematically an attachment to matter that has side stepped emotional states I no longer assume to sublimate as my solution is not a lie wrapped in maya thats a falsehood gilded with sparkling enchantment prevarication sullied by rhyme written in brimstone and copper concealing a soul cold pressed to flesh caught in the web of time and exhausted by the woe in misdirection my following disbelief of truths self evident to the gathering of will in eventual entropic dissolution. In bed with times feathered arrow I slow.

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