A PRISONER ALONE
STARING AT THE SUN THROUGH BLEEDING EYES.
CRUCIFIED SUPERFICIALITY.
SEVERED TIES WITH THE OUTSIDE WORLD
COVERING HIS FACE WITH DIRT
OR IS IT THE ASHES OF THE DEAD?
LATER, COWERING AND HELPLESS
AN EMPTY VESSEL OF SOLITUDE
A MULTITUDE OF TWISTED NERVES.
HEARTBEAT QUICKENS
IT’S TOO LATE TO GET OFF THE RIDE.
HOLD ON TIGHT
DEEPER BREATHS
AND YOU START TO SMOULDER.
FEATURES BURN
THERE’S NO NOISE
JUST THE SMELL OF BRAISED FLESH.
ONE FINAL BURST
AND THE APPLAUSE STARTS UP IN THE GALLERY.

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