clogged.
i think.
whereupon once the words flow so free
unfettered

are staunched.

haze.
over everything
glinting of obsidians chips of goblin's eyes
overlaid with
smattering points of nebulous clouds.

pinpricks of awareness
rather than vast vast
open field
of galloping snowy unicorns
and golden wings.

och, i call forth thee
why do thy forsake me?

oh how do this forbearance
came to be under my dermis

does it snoop before
springing on with punches?

or breezed over with north-sea brines
to rain sodium on strands of hair?
with the unstoppable force of a gale?

but no more does it matter
than this
than this

will it stay?