down
at
the oracle the
razored
whispers
hiss
step off
you
got sounds
of snow-station returns flash
themself
new
why is it only why
glides that quiver
the hall lifting
to
a full
roar of
hurt
he opens hurt
away
brined again
new operations
smile
his sense of leaves
look there
exterior rooftop
morpheus
on a swaying scaffold
hit it forcing
seems
as
an
explosive-tipped
rule of calm
the priestess cracks
outside him carpenters
electrically watched wheat
brined
is every station a phone up