How it all comes down,
Rolling into itself.
Fir and matted hair
Reside just below my
Acquainted dematerialization.

Crushing like concrete,
Further dystrophy consumes
Rabid hearts.

It’s just one of those things
You consider for a moment
Then brush off, as a crumb
Or a lover. Behind
The undressing eyes

Of maidens, slathered in
Your love. Somewhere we all
Expect to be was dismantled
And thrown off,
As an old pair of jeans tearing.

Candid lights beamed
Through my window
Of clear sight and sequential
Revulsion.

In the strains of anachronism
We all die a day at a time
And writhe in this,
Our licentious foreboding.