my form and its thoughts
nausea thou decayest my form and its thoughts and its words and its rotten bed.
nothing eating itself alone out of house and home in empty exertion neath the dead starlight.
rottenest line of love thoughts deceased and defunct.
nothing will convey, render, survive, impart, travel, forget
survive not but live beneath the defunct starlight always before my non-return to unmixed embraceless dust.
the capacity of dead starlight in its non-orbit its non-odyssey to never return
dead light thou embracest the edge of all and not me and not me anymore
thou embracest with capacity with capacity rent from me and from this island of unraveled idiots forever.