we came. swallowing the sun. conspicuous thieves. our satchels empty. our fingers broken.
we left. chewing on the mountains. obvious assassins. our crutches cracked. our skin curdling.
time refracting. a prism of when. the nature of our resolve still debating the depths of its struggle.
the primal of the hunt invading the subtlies of evolution. the stroke of ignition. awakening the beasts below.
the hour simmers. evaporates. until each memory condensates. and disappears into entrophy’s reluctant oblivion.
we spend our lives dying. struggling to live.