Hidden Hand Black Ribbon
The cliffs of night tower out beyond
the glass past the sand. Our tires
hum a dusky tone. Black ribbon
moves beneath us treacherous
unvarying. The oscillation pulls us in.
We move without travelling our
vessel's curse the news we bring.
Testimonials carved in stone. Sleep
disturbed only by the warning of the
beloved's toll. We gather hours gone by.
We are witness to the burning of
the beautiful. A fundamental
method and design.
