Shapeshifter in deep
Trapped in the labyrinth skin of another
Chasing phantoms-
a knower gagged by eyes
Folded days condense in the anesthetic air
In the soft suduction of the moon
the suns light is cold
He bleeds from every orifice
as the floor liquefies
the dawn with its ancient invitation
Wakes to the bereavement of demons
The Words I've Chosen 