Aural pleasures span the darkest caverns,
Unearthing scenes dispatched to furthest nooks recessed beyond the transcriptions filtered in mundane,
Blind to tumults spawned by inconvenience spared, the watch spins in sternward approbation, coveting a valance oft ignored, tempering uneven folds with carcasses of lost oases
Curdled regurgitation spindles up the larynx cold, smothering voice with misplaced improprieties, discourse measured in startling degrees—calculations that once seemed so grand, retrospectively tense at the thought of invisibility shunning predication
Feral codes bewildered through mismanaged indiscretion, cultured by the harbingers of satiety, wilting pomades and soft-etchings embedded superficially upon the iris of the third eye,
Focus has been condemned
To a hazy retro-gradated piercing
Born from unsubstantial illumination,
Built beneath the corroded buttresses deemed unfit for the staging of this or any other…emptying out
This theatre with handbills piled at the door.
I haven't written anything in quite sometime, but found this on a notepad I wrote a while back and thought I'd post it.