Swelling the Bliss Towards Stitching A Smile Together (0404)

by Occult Fan

The rhythm of the blade

as it peels on my neck

the sweet charade

of keeping the blood in

all this time

I a mime

for the moon and

the Gaian clime

as we all are

Vitruvian slime

the cast-off renegades of

a more golden time

fuck all if I know

what machines built my mind

God only knows God’s God

if God’s God even has a mind




the embrace of my parents

when I was a child

it lasted

for such a short


and the cosmos

is so vast

almost cold

if I do not smile

cannot be trusted

if they say

they’re traitors

sad in

their bottomless


we in our light

and our foundations of signs

build past the desolators

and find right

in her prime