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Things have been off of late.

Doors cracking open, the black man that explodes over his heels is full of blue light, everything is bathed/muddied into the crystal of a madman’s eyes. Jesus shakes hands with Ahriman and Someone falls downs with a frown, pulling h[is/er] eyes out with the petals of a thousand petaled lotus.

What is this light? Someone asks, and only the blind saint in the suit who reads the Qur’an has an answer. Yesterday, he says, I walked with this cane in darkness, today, I hit with it and never miss. A crash follows, and Someone bursts, water flowing, blue, lost in Light, horizon gone, firmament fuddled.

An undoing, an unravelling, a righting of a crookedlygoingworld is passing through, effacing the edges like an army of spittingup camels.