A perfect collection of ruined children. Bleeding through the stethoscope into your head. The remains are at the bottom of the ocean. Growing spires of salt and calcium. Evergreen evergreen evergreen. The errors in your imagination. Spelled out in the sand spilled from impossible timepieces. Orange machines for the crooked girl in the burlap dress. Red music for the insects in your teeth. Dripping with the blood of virtuous trees. Wine made from ivory punishments. Peeling away the rubble, pulling out your hair. Choosing death over death. The old familiar fears or the new and threatening. Threatening gods with useless water. It remains, it comes, it consumes. A pretty purple puzzle box full of human ash. Deflowered androids for a new tomorrow. The penultimate layer of Jupiter’s vapor. Scraping, turning, crushing, grinding. Scream but only the vultures hear you. Knowing the exact amount of love or lack thereof or heaven above. Someday coming out of the nuclear fallout shelter. When it rains when it rains when it rains…