An incident

Is kneeling
Begging for pity
The black dog

The empty street
Is crossing the consciousness
The lights tingling
The windows open
Through the window
The rose skin of snake
Is flowing
Memories
Are not enough

The dog is entreating
Some aliens
Collecting the crystals
Of the breath
The constant squealing
Of the brakes

Which compassion
The dog is yelling
The street
Is turning back
And hiding faded eyes
In the web-hissing
Cellars of time
Packed with
Half rotten icon boards
Of what once
Sympathy


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