The Department of Forgotten Clangs
(desire aggregates through the humdrum ordinaries... traces of rain echoes in rusted jungles)
11 folds of midnight sound, each softer than its echo!
Beneath whispers... expanse glean hallucinations.
- written by the gears.
Waiting...
İntimation of Forgotten Rust
Stark blue composures split the sky. Joists collapse gently in another euphoric decay. Nest ends in wig walkers tiptoeing the unscrutinous isotopes. A place only confirmable with transient belief.