Something Series

Two perfect strangers adrenalined in stolen eye contact
process the process of browsing a drop down menu of alternative lives

In paused rain
they fall asleep snowflaking with elipses in their eyes

I want to make you safe for me
my interests do not include one word sentences

Truth got wasted & wandered into a bad neighborhood
the expiration date keeps shifting

Partitioned into discrete sections
but they all still need to sleep

My private war against neon & buoyancy
gets me nowhere but closer to the front

The nature of feedback is to sustain itself
but something always brings it down

I want to start a band called
Newt Romney & the Reptilians

That death is not death
a corpse is death

Sometimes I let unrehearsed chemicals
coddle me into a world of sleep

Since the world is coming to an end
can you just let me store my silence in yours

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