( via / laura ostteen in dallas filth )

"There is not in the world..."

"THE HAUNTING (Anagrammed Lines)

Because man forgets how to die,
we become fine ghosts, our data
but echoed afterimages.... So, now,
come out, beget fear in shadows...."

--@Anthony_Etherin

01101001 00100000 01101100 01101001 01101011 01100101 00100000 01101001 01101110 01110100 01100101 01110010 01101110 01100101 01110100.

raised on expired bread
the stinging gifts of summer
sound of a text arriving
the same granola thirty years

mild precarity
a cooling that speaks so much
against the winds of autumn
you can fall in love with decay

step out into dark
the cathedral garage chill
childish stories of torture
don't seem so very far away

like a benediction dark
you could swim in drown in

floor made of coffee
& a distant muttering
& otherwise so still here
in this terrible cathedral

"How long will my mind remain in this wasteland."