i pluck these
splinters from
my stillbeating
trove of heartmurmurs
to form a latticework
of icy disinterest
between my mind
and an existence
of secondary splendor
the delicate weave
pulsates in
phantasmal shudders
tickling agonies
in desolate wonder
as i paint remembrance
in sultry shades of
apathetic passionfuries