PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The quantum key?
Yeah... it's there
The mist makes it easy to hide... like bodies
In a Wake.
Her study, of all things... human...
Rich, wireless, reality smoothed over and refined
Made more Beautiful by the glistening mourning...
Vaguely coffin like in unexpected light and heat,
Spectrum and Phase...
Floods, with the frequency of twisted and brutal...
Barren feeling. Caved in, pleading
Not willing to kneel, but instead defiant.
Standing, unable to understand, protesting
and making an awful mess all around.
"Leave your ass naked for a sort of floor mat
for those who need more than they can give" scrawled in
Scar -
Calm sacrifice...
A model of somekind, or Exoskeleton in the sun, bright
Blue and Red.. tools are razor... curls of very thin wisps
of grey.
A permanent scoul of disapproval etched and motions to the
figure standing just between peripheral and crossed,
It's not an artifact - it stands there now - look it
catches the light... some blade and determined fate
"He's waiting old man...."
the stain in his hand - after all.....
The air here is foul, thick, he thinks of drug resistant
breath - her thoughts.... Not anywhere in the deep incoming
vast displacement of time and context.
Blinded and new..
contact, coughs, pale, screaming for return
The Doctor with feigned concern pronounces
your sex and nomenclature
"Figures...." just a draining flash

END - SLAM LOOP HIT