strapped wrists

straitjacketed

the freezering immaculate room

glimmering white

 

the burning tip of a cigarette

approaching the forehead

 

a crying terror-mantra

a choking pranayama

 

a concentration of evil

the third eye’s macabre premonition

 

It is a clear morning today, there’s an amplitude in the cyan sky

simple mosses on bark and green algae from sea

–  clarity in the violet meditation

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