I hallucinate the things you sayprancing demons, distorting my ageless glass.
I cover my face with a silk veil
creating with tight-shut eyes
because it's better if you don't look back.
They whisper things, sticky caramel
honey sick-sweet with liesand refactions
and warping.My little box was always solid, in the end...
... Though, surprisingly brittle, don't you think?