The walls cave in everyday.

They’re thin; newspaper clippings,

And if you haven’t read one today,

There’s an article about how these walls cave in everyday.


I built a world of paper cranes,

With origami homes.

Stained fingers that folded life…blood…bone…

And I smiled at what I had done.


The living everyday are glass-blown,

Everyone of them sparkle.

And they are never alone.

Watching, reading, waiting

Until their walls

Cave in, and the sparkling glass shatters.


They blame this all on their torpid god.


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