an angelic countenance
whole
in a broken
mirror.
cast aside for six pieces of copper
and a fucking ride across town.
cold,
wet,
endlessly deep
understand that we sink past reason
o’ caliban, why?
o’ caliban, where?
take me
and take
us all
perception of depth is not the same as depth
and he’ll explode inside me like the sun.
.
.
-.sjb.