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Post Permanent
05:51
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unless i catch this wind i’ve been holding my breath for | adrift in the marrow of the scenery | well-seasoned human beings holding resentment beyond their control | and irreconcilable reverie | but it’s a vestige of many forms | within reach of a shamed man’s hands | too proud to be certain, there’s certainty to be had | that isn’t already abandoned | but if i catch this wind, it’s an allusion i’m not completely invested in | a troublesome endeavor, an allusion i’m not completely interested in | barely a glimmer | emphatic yet riddled still | the heirs of convolution | move across with open temper | the aisles into contention
growing ever tall | littered with siren-filled overtones | lending chords meant to guide you home | home | an illusion | a beckoned call
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