AT THE CUSP OF NIGHT

Halfway between the isolation of isometric smiles, made of a sojourning ambulatory venture,

into the abyss, and all of the way into the thick of it, that.

I sat through that bland evocation sussing out the theocratic...

eradicating the objection to overt dissemination.

Children bearing sustenance...

You see before you a child in all but name an adult in all but method,

bearing the indefinite infinity of instinctual repulsion,

a Half held wonderment...

cryptographically wounding the monument of obscurity,

drawing blood out of the vein,

a bloodletting, mirroring narcissism.

Oblong tincture of abject dystopia,

typified in systematic sequesterment,

at the behest of litotes exclaiming you won't regret obscurity.

The ontology of emulation,

serving a synchretic obscurity of injustice

redefined by the will of the occluded and occluding majority.

Concomitant interspersion between the idiom of path and pretense,

the consecration of disseminating conscripted aims,

harvesting the catatonic whim

of objects deemed isolated from the chasm churning chameleon gemstones,

into chutney rock rock, the, the party.

Where the abnegation of auspiciousness aspires to cast aspersions,

from the wherewithal of whim, into the cosmic uncertainty,

from this apportioned dystopia,

the commingling of conversion seeping in systematicity and Science,

deep enough to extract Myth from observation and castrate shock itself,

deep in the happenstance of seditious deontology, quickening the quag,

falls deeper still into the night's aether,

where theatrical convention, on the predator's emancipatory sustenance,

feigns the co-opted neon of stimulation,

sifting in the ion amber,

distilling silence and terror,

at the cusp of night.