and a man was travelling

though in no particular direction

glancing upon what he could

through two small panes of glass which

bled of thick, oozing ink

staining sunburnt cheeks

furling with a huff

as two unblinking crescent moons

sat watching in

the folds of a charcoal-powdered

navy sky

and it was the flesh of that man

the face had so firmly inscribed itself

into stone which his

foot turned over and back again

lanky arms grope for the stars

tongue leapt between gnashing teeth

rotted with dust

and once water had rolled off

that moment agog with wonder

at the spewing, blazing

gibbering wings which no longer took

flight

until his palms were boiling

above his head molten rock

and until his eyes had

fallen out from swollen sockets

from loss of air

heads sprouting from other heads

along with their limbs

struck flat to no use

after his trip too far

but still that man is travelling

though in no particular direction

looking to find

a better mind