The undead be devious Their horizon is silence Their pleasure a form of doom rhymes with Adam and union pool comfort & the eroticization of the whole personality so that each swoop of value is a shudder or muttering rushes of double names emptied by the sharp thrill of terror the blurring of belief and laughter in a chapel or more rational place of worhsip what about a bath of light on the letting what about the way we ruin everything is nice peaceful generous dancing alone naked in the privacy of no shame I realized the dawn coming on I heard the sky switch hues and the loose voice of chorus too
Maafa you ain’t pastoral
Nor are you sidity though
Nor home
Nor anywhere else
