Monday, June 26, 2017

On Bomb Scares

And then a bullet replaced all of history. We couldn’t recognise ourselves in it - all of its dates compressed to a phalanx of immaterial noise. And then we ignited, were permanently stained. We had always guessed it would be cities that would fall, but how wrong we were, transformed in our sleep to an alphabet rearranged as a disc of cranial time. You can be this letter, someone said, and I will be that one. The separation was endless. Oh cancelled dreams, let those who know how to sleep close their mouths forever, and remember to never again open their eyes.

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