Woken up in a chamber of broken glass,
Gentle eyes ignore the splinter and pass.
Folding the paper where the last one bled,
A kiss still due, from one long dead.
Gardens quiver, whispering my name,
Dissolving in acid, breathing the same.
A vision of blind slowly takes flight,
Reborn in a parallelogram, only at night.
Sour and obscure, all blurred at once,
Knives and chives, they turn and dance.
Dark, grey dystrophy, magic of entropy,
Hunter turns prey, a silent catastrophe.
Time and sublime, we blow up the sky,
Endless I wander through death's reply.
To wake is to fall and to fall is to stay,
A prism of riddles, a labyrinth at play.