the dualist, resurfaces. vomit. a sea of it. churning inside a bag of organs. vesicles. the disconnect is the fall. its time for a suicide. frankly who gives a damn, where damn is needed to be given. damn you too. damn. addictive personalities personified in the slight labored assumption, the notice has been escaping through those pinholes. the silver is collecting. shedding winged things. wicked things, shedding aseasonal garments. sentient again. come back to being. the shadows grow too. yellow walks the sidewalks warming windows. graced by the epitome of indulgence. the hollow souls. holes, holes holes holes, holes. we dig them too, all the deeper. for but sport and derivative happiness. which is only ammunition. so. holes, holes holes holes, holes. dadism too. circles.