More confusion stumbling out dark concrete little light burgundy splotches


Watch is a compass for all the sways and incomprehensibility it engenders,

Turning over like a spinning quarter descends a banister and the wind tugging.

Goes to grab his hair and it commends itself out to his grasping hands –

A god's recall power exercised! Hear the reverberation? The artificial echo disenchants the passersby and the mechanical soundrape thrusts and thrusts:

She is ravaged, she is destroyed by his cacophonous syrup voice.

Black and burgundy splotches become new brown, falling down


Turtles shedding their shells in the sky as he looks up and sees the full-bodied lustrous and lusting smoke wafting out the place he left.