

Against the skyline, a lamp stand regurgitates “the answer”


Seemingly, there is a fondness for annoyance. A weird cry; To need a breath. An awkward frown whose hymn doesn’t catch. When the focus of sacrifice is flesh. My pop will say, Maybe babydoll the world is spinning a little too fast. If only to unpack the synchronicity in his ghastly meaning. Seeing between the lines could have merit, If it is so.