histology lesson 05

as parallax, we are in the obstruct interference, the illusion
of static that is our winter. at nights we call to other, each

dialysis a slow-drip, expertly timed. we simmer in the data--just
off the bell curve's planing twinned stars--a dangerous statistic.

i am the shattered fourth tooth of the psi-wheel that lends
your machine identity; that habit is fatal. a skip in the pulse

of your arithmetic, the bruise you tender in memory. that gift
already charred in immanence: consumption's catch-22: to what end

will we have built our machines if turning we light each other's
cigarettes? filtration is only fit in times of violence, or of war.