Hypothesis

I imagine the body

At Death’s mantle turns inward, breathes (heaves?)

Switches the lights off once more. And right then,

Right then, its cavern grows electric

Fuzzed in that quick-dark glow...

Eyelights vacate

And the door shuts.

Let me fall with the felling of trees.

Jun 2022

Envy is Empty II

Overstated