dawning squint is insane dawning on me, the creep of salt and welling wishes burst from my eyes red from the computer screen. something is sick and wrong in desire something too alone and easy to do that i've lost feeling in my fingertips. the effort looks stretched and thin, so I don't question it and instead myself because I pretend to want meaning when meaning wants me and I'd rather run into a frenzy of distracting lust. I'd rather just not trust anything again. 020917 ... frayed stretched and thin or brief and fleeting? 020917 ... morphine. on a tired hopeless mountain i saw some sort of sun 021215 what's it to you? who go blather from