529.

In the silence of
an empty house, disquiet
creeps in on soft feet.

528.

The larval remains
of a regurgitated
heart lays twitching here.

527.

I wonder at the
construction of the fragile
shell of these bodies.

526.

Does everyone else
in the world feel different
from each other too?

525.

A Hunter Thompson
prophecy in flesh. Nothing
can save that heart now.

524.

In a blink, the sky
bleeds into the dark expanse,
gone in an instant.

523.

A child's trusting grasp
around a parent's neck is
such trusting beauty.