Lizzy Burnam 🐞

Even in pure, animal night
There is no alternative to gladness 
But the taste of it is never striking enough 
To stifle Scorpio in his advance 
To plug one’s ears against the sweet song
Of his command 

I am not occult, and you are not invincible 
And as I listen to the birds croak 
Their intrusive thoughts infect mine 

More faithful to these many little souls 
than that One Big Mask 
So is my essence: a finite ember 
Alone in the shadow of lucidity