Patterns

the curious atom searches for friends. the huff of the chaos makes it feel important. the world sleeps in stranger's beds. desperate strays willing to accept broken locks as an invitation to enter.

time is a fickle god. and a seldom friend. we tarnish the world with the remnants of eager skin. because it deserves. to feel. something. we boast the cauldrons of angry witches. as the spell is cast. choices forgiven for moments had. toothless predators gnawing. on bones that keep coming back.

impressing the darkness with her stern gaze. she cautions it about repetition. this skin is just a garbage bag. we recycle the rest.

I've been her before. and i will again. long icicles on the eave. waiting on the whims of the weather.

hungry animals with their fangs in the groins of gods. biting at heaven's edges.