It's done. Me. I am finished. Have you ever grown so tired of your life that you lash out at the very foundations on which it's built? I seem to be lost in a reliquary, no defense, no preambles.
I am armor pierced by the molten rays of the sun
tremulous shafts of bespoken motes beaming
light held aloft captured in a slanted angle
neither shadow
nor light
Unhinged from my Gibraltar
I act without thinking
When I become Andromeda chained
I think without acting
Bound, awaiting either Pegasus or Neptune's beast or Perseus
I slip out of form fall
sliver through the cold steal
churn into the frothing roil of sea
am captured and my hair spun into a net of stars
and I set upon the horizon the houses of my shared fates
equals
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