508.

The naive standard
of the cosseted public
confuses purpose.

507.

I compare you with
simple pleasure to see how
you fit up against.

506.

A beautiful game,
charades and sleights of hands, met
under love's regard.

505.

His lithograph fades.
But persistent memory
denies abating.

504.

Trapped in this hovel
of misshapen dreams, turned in
and perverted out.

503.

A depression sinks,
weighed down with all the living
time cannot change.

502.

I've lead with my head
in every fall. Such self-
hewn lobotomies.

501.

A room of hollow
ears and empty hearts, cast in
bare abandonment.

500.

Left directionless
with this solipsistic heart
as a reference.

499.

The brain, a one man
construction project, with the
body its victim.

498.

The sea is tinted
in silvered shadows, peeking
out from waves below.

497.

A silhouette, left
as the only evidence
of what once remained.

496.

His heart an exact
match, as vague and restless with
deep wanting as mine.

495.

The prettiness of
dusk, hung in the arms of
a cold autumn mist.