Timothy Pure Incineration Point
So now it's come down to this
who would have ever thought
the blood-line would have ruptured at its seams
spilling the precious fluid - that drove the internal engine - that
collapsed from a slow leak left unseen
these acts of desperation - relinquishing control
the flood incites the fire - and pours out from the holes
So much is now uncertain
there's no safety net
all intentions have been wiped so clean
as falling stars of August wishes - visit once again - a smoldering
premonition waits in the wings
the winter's snow had bleached the tracks
though I knew where she had been
her positions all but compromised
when the virtues turn to sins
on the blinding brink of madness
the prevailing wind arrives
chaos undermines my attempt
a nostalgic reunion
greets me with a smile
constricting coils extend a friendly hand
these acts of desperation - relinquishing control
the flood incites the fire - and pours out from the holes
the winter's snow had bleached the tracks
though I knew where she had been
her positions all but compromised
when the virtues turn to sins
(The Encounter)
In the corner he sits
cradled
gently rocking back and forth
he awaits the blackness
which begins to make its rounds
its laughter so enticing
so arrogant
he anticipates the encounter
as he tethers loosen
