the search continues for the halfland maps of the greatest courts - sentient and grey mattering to the masses for some reason. inexplicable. to think, behest to grow in comfort and stability, we ache to be fine. like a woman's corset in ribbons and bone, straight against the onslaught of interaction. interim. betwixt. my teeth born in fang over porcelain and petit four and she flashes her diamonds in a photograph bitchy at being bested. growl at me. but saviour of self: do you deny the grip of the hand which preserves jams and jellies? indeed. my cunt so full of you i swell into life, yet it is not you, per se - your girth irrelevant just my ears hearing the fastidious winds, blowing. not him or he or they. just me, and my dragons. spine steel, and whip cracked. where is it. in a tower or an actress. a rapper raps but a writer. a writer's heart pumps ink: recycled through the heart a purifier of the toxins. i died at the bite of the snake, a silver tongue, and slept until my system charcoal poemmed you out. again and again. a helix of hate and copy. i am unsaved except in the dust. ⴲ.