[Photography by Angela Buron]

this is castle of sand, castle of burnt rock and fragile like the brain case / the rolling is just the acid, slim and merging, deep and burgeoning in the spine and eating its way up your neck there is / nothing like feeling the scent of death and the waves in the music / waves in the sky and the hum of electric air, electric people moving together and the shape is simply full / beneath them the ground shakes and is trampled, but they are nothing, we nothing, we want to prove, all exist, and die, love & move out and ruin four lives during our youths because we do not know ourselves / cannot unknow the feeling of want and follow it like pied piper into the jaws of lust / we can beat back emotion like foul beast, foul human creatures we are, but it is deep wave in the ocean, tidal force beneath our senses, tidal shoal breaching before we notice and the faces are screeching up our neck and the knives of feeling are at another’s throat we know / nothing if we are wise / know nothing if we are smart, and genius is fleeting between the fingers like blood, like we had something left it behind and wasted it quick / the luck is breathing and it is healthy, luck moving around rooms and emptying itself out of us all, slow and keeping, slipping out the windows, and falling / into the deep’ning snow


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