Times Abattoirit was weird it came to me as a splodge like a paint splat on my consciousness and on my integral separation multiphrenic systems dilution HUmans as PEephole are not the same in any given second they are seconded to a place where they have to concretise the imagin-eered palace the original thought still resides all that is left is the resonance of it through the mirror. then when the shine wears off it becomes residue no dew on lilys kept in times abattoir like pets to own a fictitious bestial belonging. teach a solitary fly to unleash its nature or watch humanity perform it for free? |