itinerant blue

it comes to that morning when finally you realise: it's all going to collapse there is a conclusion that's yet to be seen while loose ends are stacking high to a volatile degree eyes peering through sun-kissed slits at a landscape bathing in a varnish of itinerant blue as if the sky has reminded the earth of loneliness and the old days of communion a dawn when gamblers get slapped into remission and the ball starts rolling again with rogue impetus time to move and abandon what is built and may later bleed after days and nights of bargaining into the mirror's subversion as the only muse that serenades you is a computer generated image wishing to advise you have limited credit to make this call…