The world is full
Saturated, compressed and just so fucking full
No room left for
Poetry, [REDACTED] or the lights of new loves
Novelty squeezed out
Like pus
Onto dull concrete

Sky
Dim like a closet, behold:
The slow cancellation of the future

I force myself to write
And prepare for its debut
As dull repetition
[REDACTED]
The sky may be
Behind all the clouds;
But there are only clouds
And there will only be clouds - forever

Let there be asymptotic light
Let it abort my wombful sleep
Forever