10  How far is it you have come today?


Dreams of falling common
Tics in the brain, like, worse
Anoxia firing off light patterns and endomorphins
The recipe for the soul to cross to paradise
The one bright corridor against the night

Perhaps they do come through, know
You are near death even if
It's all controlled: the veil
Ripped deliberately is the veil ripped
And whether what you hit
When you fall on those already fallen rocks
Is endogenous hallucination
Or what you will have dreamt of forever
There may be an absurd comfort
In that last walk through nothingness again