the thrills of the thunder encased by a flick
or a flinch of a lash trimmed lid
no better than us with those words you spin
blind in the day to a brighter night and a pitiful
excuse for tomorrow.
you see what you want but the king sees it all
and what you call blood runs colourless
and clear as your skin sheds pages like a scaly
now i'm just rambling.
oh well, worth a try.