Author Information
Sartrean Demise
Your choices have turned
into theirs (whether it be
gods, plastics, or peers),
leaving you nothing more
than a finger that had been
erected far too long
and atrophied like the north
point of a needle where
its south point merges
into your body -- a compass
beheld by their palms.
Regret, and your skin
will fade/harden into iron
(for betraying will).
