The precedence is set, incurable tales of your projection
and dreams. How do you live with yourself she asks? I have no idea what you are talking about, I
am the mathematical equivalent of humanity.
He sits with this proclamation.
That would be true, if it weren’t for …
If it wasn’t for …
If that was …
If I knew …
The pain. The sun rises and sets with me he thinks. If it
wasn’t for the injustice of rising the sun, I would be perfect. Thus, I am
perfect as I carry the burden.
Why do you sear me she asks? It’s a bestowment, you are
branded and you are mine. You cause me to rise the sun, this is difficult, and
for that your branding is your disagreement.
Crepitation.
I love you. Pop. Snap. Cauterize. Muffled stillness.
Now I no longer have to rise the sun he thinks to himself. I
am perfect as I no longer have a burden.
Stillness.
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