voodoo universe

I manage time but still loose heart,
my brain vertigo hemorrhage of gravitons and gluons.

Hands whirl on a silver circle on the office wall,
timing the heart beats until Golgotha.

I smell the stench of veneer and hide in the cave of your atlantis.

Yet I cannot stop the goose skin death ticking of apollo’s paycheck.

Time itself is measured in sticky melted wax drawn on a wall with a smelly grin.

Yet, I always will wonder if your music will stop breaking tone and find the pitch to sit on my wallowed mellowed soul.

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