Icons fastened
icons fastened
in our shadows
are alienated
collapse and re-configure
bodies broken on rocks
emit flights of diaphanous wings
armoured plating beaten into tectonic mirrors
cannot encase the ferment
that rips seeps out
melting steel into new reflections
we have wilfully honed and marshalled
have hunted desolation to slip from venerable strictures
but we are captivated by the iniquity
of labelling the inconstant so that we can enter the eternal
there is much exaltation in the purity of the self-contained
but opulence escapes without the perception and reverie
of the magician's crucible
organic gestalt or schizoid meltdown
both entwine in infinite venom and mutuality
I assume I am my own
damnation
therefore I am
from out of my damnation flows iconic hubris