poorly ventilated

ravenous butterflies
stuck in
a hurricane
carniverous heartblossoms
draped in
antiquity
the pilot light
lies unlit
as fumes make
the air in the basement
hazy
the lone light
yellowed incandescence
with a shoelace
hanging limply
he murmurs
palindromes
into the endless
night,
i long to be
draped
in fine white linens
laid gently
in the bow
of the boat
to be set adrift
on the waves
as the fiery arrow
flies true
to set my
corpse
aflame
a beacon
in the darkness
warning
all of the devils
the true
evil
is coming,
the cracked concrete
exposed
conduit
running through
aged wooden beams
the scent of gas
fades
as the last cigarette
calls softly
for the spark
that sets
the brightly colored
butterflies
free of their
circular prison
of need
in the gale force
currents
of soulweary
disambiguations
softly shouting
palindromes
into the night.

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