Contours

late answers lap around the bliss-wet air beneath me cold gulps, as many as required won't seal up the ceiling stare stay, filter now all of my rats have departed I can wane somewhere apart from the noise pause here and colourize the pain because soon I'm alighting the lifting beams glide down siphon into the overspill beckoning the outlines signals lull flickers in a new time contours your grooves are filling up an anaesthetic crush and I draw out