An Empty Catacomb of Prayer #11

When the lines broke;
when my water; broke.
And in the siren’s howling sentence
there was peace, for a time.

Not long
after indulgences
became part of
property, another
aspect of the golden sun,

Rhythmic transistor,
copulating with the energies
of transformation & induction.

Resonating.

While the cool, stoic icy blast
of a northern segregation casts
her deep black shadow. Casts her
abysmal flat fucking shadow
down into the well from which
my heart-deceased, ceased to sing.

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When the lines broke;
when my water; broke.
And in the siren’s howling sentence
there was peace, for a time.

Not long
after indulgences
became part of
property, another
aspect of the golden sun,

Rhythmic transistor,
copulating with the energies
of transformation & induction.

Resonating.

While the cool, stoic icy blast
of a northern segregation casts
her deep black shadow. Casts her
abysmal flat fucking shadow
down into the well from which
my heart-deceased, ceased to sing.

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