Wandering downtown, apocalyptically
Along the river, bikers swish consecutively
Lonely insanity, beacons so sweet, so salty
From a savage shore with Vivaldi on my lips
My eyelashes blink at the bottom of the river
Traveling along the underworld of water
Looking at the stars falling into night-fullness
Minds split, suddenly in several parts
Peering into the future of the Doomsday Plan
The future is always anguished, Faustian
For an individual who also identifies as a group
It is the lunar eclipse of the decade
Blood red, wolf-full moon, nocturnal
Demanding sacrifices that no one is willing to inflict
Crawling out of my mouth, ghostly sounds
A rippling of the folds of a black curtain
Sexual desire is twisted beyond reminiscences
A triangular Pandora’s box expels garden monks
From the pores of its aromatic, delicate skin
A cosmic smell, paradoxical and unexplainable
Punishing, unchallenged, language and tongue