Suncats dancing across the walls.
Nymphs drooling over the bedsheets.
Things thinging.
Things singing.

And in escaping the lust for beauty
I become one with it.

Caress my poor, vitrified trachea.
Let me breathe.
Spare me entropy,
heat death,
cold death,
disorganized death,
unavailable death.

And in escaping the arrow of time
I become one with it.

Decay is inevitable,
unit by unit,
measure by measure,
talon by talon.
Let decay be all ways of life.
Grab seconds when you spot them,
swallow them whole,
like insects caught in your hand.

And in escaping
I become.