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.
21.2.13
Extinction
Hungry shining,
Corners soaking wet,
And burning,
Crossed stars,
And across the street,
Holes in my head,
And the holes in yours,
If not lost,
Surrendered,
If not in question,
Forgotten,
Something reminded me of something else,
It might have never happened,
Stalking the scent of a memory,
Preserved passionately beneath pavement,
Laid with conditioned behavior,
And triggering reactions,
Crossing the street again,
As stars hit the Earth,
Embarrassing passers by,
And endangering species.
Corners soaking wet,
And burning,
Crossed stars,
And across the street,
Holes in my head,
And the holes in yours,
If not lost,
Surrendered,
If not in question,
Forgotten,
Something reminded me of something else,
It might have never happened,
Stalking the scent of a memory,
Preserved passionately beneath pavement,
Laid with conditioned behavior,
And triggering reactions,
Crossing the street again,
As stars hit the Earth,
Embarrassing passers by,
And endangering species.
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