The perils of worthiness crumble in my shaking hands.
The darkness that once surrounded her lures me nearer. I see her pale glow and sunken eyes. The keen sense of failure drawn with each breath, heavy in the rosy water.
I miss her, to no advantage.
Separated by this faithful battle of wills, united in this kindred shell. Close your eyes and imagine the song. All the power of divided criticism among the caste survivors. I have built my retreat with bloody hands and knees, sweat and laughter.
Drink in the poison of the wind. Believe degenerate tears. Never admit you know yourself completely.
Time is all we have to lose in this whimsical madness.