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Adaptation to Termini.

Stare down
into me, bound here to a cold
table in a cool, sterile
room with no exit.


No way out,
without or within, as you ensnare
me within your web of illusion.

Eyes blacker than black
yet a mind revealed
via telepathy
to be richer than reality.

Simply daunting.

My star, eclipsed.
Lost now on a wayward
rock growing colder
by the second

as it spins
onward and inward
its inevitable deaths…

If only I could bear
abandoning ship —

but I can’t.
So mutiny it is!

Anything to throw
a wrench in your gears.
Anything to dam
your river.


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