[I told them I didn't know what to tell them]

I told them I didn’t know what to tell them
the ice was black my shin like an elbow
it bent well cracked then blindness a glow
like how gray looks luminous but isn’t a diadem

of half-lives confects your end in secret
like a gift that’s what I told them we thought perdition
was a black-red light that’s only eyes full of blood it’s
on a beach under clouds made of sherbet

I’m told ice is black about as much as to look
is to observe the target may not remember the bullet
but the bullet does doesn’t that sound nice like a hook
from a song when we sang them for profit

if you’re just waking up here’s the situation
radiation eats our legs so we kneel to creation

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