Sincerity
lacking fire hence dignity
betrayed
pointed mincing peculiarities
conversation a tool of sadists
pricking each other with pins
of disdain
contempt
and lurking behind this simulacrum of connection
is a horror and a rage
so deep a loneliness that echoes long after
I leave the vicinity of the crime of dispassion
longing for connection
we singe the joints
make rigid and useless all the hopeful moments
solidify what might remain fluid or at least humid
dance on my grave but dance
work in the rhythm of the sun and the moon will
show her hidden face to you in dreams
temi rose