These remnants, rotting keepsakes of words and pictures are mnemonically residual. They are scryed, interfaces utilizing misfired sigilings, systems of incomplete quasi-alchemical call-signs and proto-symbologies loosely based upon borrowed (and in some cases stolen) artificially charged devices. When assembled into specific schemas, this soft machinery marks as it contains, and thus constructs the Terminal House.
26.6.12
Hairy on the Inside
Walker of skin,
You keep your heart separate,
In a cage of iron.
Pealer of shadow,
You walk on the palms of your hands,
With star-shaped stigmata.
Caster of doubt,
You walk through deserted streets,
Of cities of lead and of gold.
You blush with silver,
And bruise.
Conceal so as to reconstitute,
From hunters with foul metal.
You retrace your steps,
And you walk in cycles.
You keep your heart separate,
In a cage of iron.
Pealer of shadow,
You walk on the palms of your hands,
With star-shaped stigmata.
Caster of doubt,
You walk through deserted streets,
Of cities of lead and of gold.
You blush with silver,
And bruise.
Conceal so as to reconstitute,
From hunters with foul metal.
You retrace your steps,
And you walk in cycles.
A Destroyer of Worlds
A destroyer of worlds,
Beneath soft sheets of infinite hunger,
Dreaming of carnage,
On a bed at the centre of the world.
Once touched,
A strike in return,
As that of a predator,
To be pounced upon,
And bound by neurotoxin.
Drained to bone,
A husk as trophy.
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