[veritas]

just another blanket of humidity from the Yucatán’s dry season
I’m flying east leaving for the seashore on the seaboard. breezing.
In time even the C4 can weaken, the kids are yours for the weekend.
While the force that anoints appoints the sword towards the legion.
Because in the end it’s still you versus death so you better keep hope.
If you’d only let me I’d undo every single sinew off your fettering rope.
Begetting and begetting and begetting my every moment that cuts the throat.
That’s dark. Edgy even.
But what’s left this evening is the blessed ceiling where your so low you forgot all feeling
Catch another scratch off healing then take your mask off. Breathing.
Couldn’t move til the cast off freeing last call for the evening. Seeing is believing
Life is an adjustment disorder. Every day is the cycle of grieving. .