It never hurt this much before,
And I feel I'm courting Saturn.
The Twelve-Eyed Secret gazes through a prism,
Staring into raindrops swirling slow
It lifts its horrible heads
With lidless orbs of limitless vision.
I dream with fluid movements in a lake
The ripples cast from skipping stones
We speak below a gushing mind,
Crouching in a corner, hid behind a box
Full of Worms and stalking shadows.
Magnetism draws me to a cone of space;
I sift still through hours of its plasma,
Biding time until the clocks collapse.
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