Brooding at a distance
A faintly perceptible creep
Towards the terrible edge of everything
The ship dragged by a still water
In a sea that moves
With the wind

Pitch it at me
Let me fall in
Your dark warm innards
That rot and stink
If all that we have seen today
Can tell me anything 

Then wait as silence 
Is drawn in with the air 
That holds it
Like a held breath
In warn out lungs
Coughing their final
Regret

There are just two now
And the edge
The terror of eyes in each other
The hole is the black of looking
Into looking
An unpair

How long in the thick water
With mud that sucks
How far the horizon 
That stays forever at a distance
That holds the moonset
Across the end

Two on a boat
Not lovers
Nor friends
Nor enemies
Nor sailors

Cannot escape each other 
As they start to try to sail back
With no wind 
Just the movement towards
The setting moon

The mood changed
A door in the lower parts
Became interesting
And I started to descend
A key was in the door and the descent continued

As I descended a neon pink light 
Rose up toward me
Triangles in triangles
Circles in circles
This fallen angel in four electric dimensions

A pure colour in a total void of light
Bass sounds rise to a painful level
Triangle and circles both
Condense into a point
Light and sound are merged into a horizon on zero