The divisional shadows
of the math we inspire;
derision of prose
by the wrath of desire
has led me astray
like a pawn to your laughter:
send me away
at the dawn of disaster.
Cock crows the call of
this glamor forbidden,
the clock on the wall
is a camera I’ve hidden,
and sight swarms the notion
of friendly portrayal
as light forms the motion
intent on betrayal.
My eyes disappear
as my brain overloads.
Beneath chandelier
I feel drained and exposed.
The world starts to shimmer;
I head to the gallows…
As glimmer of hope
is divided by shadows.
Written by Jason Wright
August 9, 2026
Inspired by a particularly kinky dream I had. It’s also an expanded fragment which began when I started typing words onto a collage for this site:
