( via / via )

That night when joy began.

"Krasnov's bed"

Pulverbatch is pitch-black
where paths chomble hombre
lost among lab subfusc
i allow sift prowess
the night full of nailguns

two belownders tender
torque against snuff orchid
in a teahouse hastened
i huddled candle-puddling

the night full of nailguns
nonobservant sterveling

Cinquain.

"incognito I cross the cemetery" --Vallejo

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