Bleeding light and form
cuts in fabric
figures dancing in the opposing shadow world
distorted, unreal in the breeze like
watching koi outlines
sensually writhe
on the end of a hook,
the capacity for pain is gone
and only the primal caged feeling
is left.
Let them fall like
Icarus, bringing sons down with them,
let them stay beneath the surface,
never really touching the real.
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