Twilnkling
Neon Gas
marks your exit.
Each screeching
guitar drum beat
sound wave
calls forth
memory.
I breathe
I breathe
the shadows
are tall and high.
February just
gave way
to March.
Youth just
gave way
to age.
I sit
DEEPLY
here.
No new rebirth
No colliding Cortex.
Just more Twinkling
quietly drinking
EARL GREY.
I must be part
of the evolutionary
process.
Molded by enviroment
FIT
to survive.
Come
and go.
and I sit DEEPLY
here.
Spinning.
By sextonpoet
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