hands roots, eyes sky, mind wide
a thousand miles an hour in naked neural halls
is threaded flesh as rainbow tumors undulating to 
eject and absorb itself recursively birthing more and more
white streams that refine and lash into stellar dust inside-behind my eyes
i'm lost then found by myselves, but am i mine?
before awakening before living before killing is over-begun
behind crystalline veneers of far off too close turning glass wire
artifices of slights, heights of golden white cream to green of 
circles cycling the gyre in an ever reversing spiral
form the singsong plea from selves to self, to not forget:
the game is a trick
the rules are a lie
cease this war
we'll never die

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