She always longs to run
even when baffled by the
destination.
In this jumbled playpen,
each moment of elation
surrenders reciprocal torment,
since the blight of Cain
taunts with violence
to cripple all phantoms
of devotion.
The system has encountered
a critical error in the flutter
of energies bitterly wrangled
until each particle seethes
to reboot, to cleanse
human manipulation
from the code
of all matter.
That one dot of doubt
infects to corrupt our gelatin
of hollow atoms once flexed to
fill our illusion with splendor
of touch
before yielding
one last, hissing
bolt of static.
