Apostate
By craig2
Hallucination and manic glimpse of foreheads loping into corners, squared to meet the room. Securities, posits of finite held fast with concrete nails, glued taut with foam from the mouth - idle language lose its meaning, a dropsy of friends fetters out. Attempts to bypass thought as thought, succumb to the silence of the now, soliciting some new seductive state – foreseeing the fall like Eve in the garden jubilant but calm, sedate. The slightest movement of the head, minutest shift of cosmic weight, tips tiny scales of abstraction, sends the soul soaring from its icy crag, falling to some serpentine retreat. The carnal heat and contemplation of this most defining, decadent descent causes me to smile with the critics, mock their pithy little lives as words. Written November 26th, 2001 © on Feb 22 2002 07:16 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Hallucination and manic glimpse..."