1140It is normal for me to wake and find myself writing in the dark… or to be out of my tomb, caught in an unearthly world, alive with the images that haunt me. -Kim Elizabeth

In a world cut-off from death….consciousness is over-rated.

We’ve grown into the taboo and traditional dwellings forgotten by forgetting In the shady hues lingering with supernatural pride and proof Hung by the old hands that evolved from beast to beautiful beastlings with reflections An heirloom passed line after line to the chosen few prepared to implant and fix Deep within the whispers and chants sits a stare from inside an unseen safe place It pulses a thrashing lash felt from here to there It steps in sync with natures buoyant flares it seeks a speech full of time and hard covered shells Spiraling effortlessly down a wormhole meeting dreams where memories fade all things Away fastened knots tied as copies of the one copied by the first living life seen Just to fumble and repeat a life aliened off from divine quenching of breath made as clear Pureness stretched and bent with a method still held with deaf and blind fears Made by the very few that death couldn’t cage or rib Under-rated are their blowing songs lined with instruction’s first print of real freedom Cloaked and protected in layered sediments of time and memory Buried alive and in full sprint awaiting death to borrow a favor So living may unconsiously co-exist as breath with a dual world screened in dreams Leaving a gate bridged by time and folklores passed Into a place where resting isn’t so far fetched And death breeds and bleeds not so different from the rest


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