(no subject)

[apiphile]

demented

Now I have mastered the art of forgetting:
Words slip my mind as if they have important appointments to keep elsewhere,
Dreams take to their heels at the first crack of an eyelid, like illicit lovers at the sound of the matrimonial footstep in the hall,
And faces reside only in photographs, whether or not the progenitor is already buried.
I don't tell anyone, but I think that,
like a snail flushed over days preceding the table,
I am earmarked for destruction.
All this shit is leaving me
so that I can die at ease.