Red threaded looms.

As Bacchus stood facing down the steepe

Staring a Orphic circle attached to Atelope horns

Symbols of musical thread of a lyre with the ability 

To launch Eros arrow of the charge to the sea

Red thread the looms of explicit snow melts

Keyhole Views of a world bridge demolished 

you can’t floss a fluorescent Soviet circuits

aware of black jack strippers and bulbs

Hanging from crystal ceilings Of clearance

mosaic featurettes girls of Alters 

bylines dancing towards its 

division of sixths as crows vault sevenths

A western heaven strewn with rotorcraft hulks

And What to wear when planning a

escape from a prism the seaweed temple

As 
cameras unload a sequencing silver

of strobing square root taste buds

Unwound by placid dry lakes Of longing Looks 

a long hall tied to close caption translation

As subterranean kiosks of

obelisk language barriers once hitched 

Now straddled genealogy into Meditative 

moods motioning of visual trigonometry on walls.

And rows of fields with crown cap flowers 

for fidelity found on tinted lizard glass

The full stop that cant be reworded a

magazine called time as you retread a life

As a name change flushing chains

what’s left of your first life.

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