Hold X. You, everlasting, fall into the voidheavy abyss. No?
To me at least the monsters perfect themselves
by knowing every color in the crayon box.
Certainty. Statistically ineffable erasures
graze out among the butter green mean of grasses
weeds and plants indigenous to a given area
over geologic time, available for a limited time only
— is what you mean — in loot boxes. Your children’s
shimmer, blast anatomy, orbit of faeries, featherfrost.
All tooth. All esophagus. Yada yada yada. All asshole.