gnarled antediluvian branches
glaring upon the wild and uninhibited
crumbling beneath the measured weight of time
maintaining their estates of immaculate splendor
casting shadows of departed grandeur
I, last of the despondent disconsolate
wandering without purpose in the dust of the spectral
acquiring shades of melancholy
and disconnected fragments of discourse,
slipped from the unwilling tongue
in the ungoverned mania of vehemence
shrouded in the Cimmerian curtain of night
my immediate perception, incapable of analysis
glimpsing fragments of things.

Violet Saint Clair is a fashion industry veteran and former NYC nightclub promoter turned backwoods recluse. Her Twitter is @hauntologic

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