Consensus of the senseless is that
everything is grey again, skin hums with
hunger itch and the bitch has no milk
for the litter
Peak oil came, rust is on everything now
and my mother rots in a library of flesh memories,
some sort of hospital it's not
hospitable, it's not warm it's not
friendly no
Disillusion approaches with
exponential acceleration, to some point of
almost reversal
What I mean to say is that the ugly goes so
far as to be beautiful again before I blink before
you blink we
slept together on this one
We went down together
We lost it all together
We all
let it
slip
together
So no blame
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