eyes lost to insomina

I wouldn’t sleep I’ll just play it on repeat

Where are the eyes

I can’t find them

Where do they move, to-fro I can’t be them

edges of my seeing sockets, beyond the rims of my lenses

Into the vibrating darkness,

the beating of trees silent

silted in the bridge

possible dangers littered, meshed into being

which one do I follow?

Where is the danger, I can feel its hovering touch

where does the hum come? , where does it feast? , what synthetic shell incubates its beasts?

At rivers a lake,

stuck in the socket monitored by hulked dough people

movement strikes the breath your holding

hold

quite

be unseen by what I can’t see, I’m out of services

where do the lines meet?

what am I projecting into the edges of darkness,

whose blank?

Am I the canvas or the paint?

 

 

 

 

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