Vesper x

Are we but shades
Cathartically shed on
A camera obscura of sorts
Capsized, washed out,
Indistinct and begrimed
Here we must grovel
With dignity under a
Still peephole.
Are we mere statues
Clustered in our glasshouses
- a box with no confession -
To kneel under a bronze law?

But the bronze law melts down here
As the smoking gun inhales.
There's only ourselves
And the deaf walls moving in on us

Only ourselves and our questions snapped at
Only ourselves, sécreted once they're secréted.

We are our own time-bomb flowers
As we're cluttering
A hothouse in a blind spot,
A mass grave
That's manured with scandal
In no sun