Thanattractor

Here incompleteness
of the heat and cool
of a circle of days.

In my chest
a graphic equaliser
where slights and
embraces tick over

On the hour
where we both
have paid,
work confuses itself

For desire
and the fines
we levy
make orbits

terraced outrage
clicking to clockwork
and the dyad
between pent up

Repentance
Resolutionary
Revenge
And why no one

Hears each other
for flames and clouds
puzzled to squares
and some insist

the earth is chameleon
engineered for the sake
of destruction of the organic.
The froth of mythologists

savoir faire in regards
treason to reason
demand tradition
and create more hours, killers