The Light That Leaks In

by Modern Rituals

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Sauntering, diagonal. Leading to the middle of the road. Sirens come louder, bring bliss. We watch on triumphantly. Trying not to let it slip in an upward stream. Allow the downward flow to reach the bay. The temptation to drown starts as a laugh, rumbling. Distracted by my thoughts in my head, Vexed with the wind and the hair tickling my neck. Aligning focus with the curb; Inane lines of thought take me instead
Entrail 03:20 video
Lost the page you tried to finger to, toss the book aside. Get your wing tipped shoes on and slide in circles for evermore. It’s nice to wake up in a room to a general sense of foreboding. Resembling something near to a circle in a square
Fog Machine 03:50
The walls breath, each breath sounds like wind. Maybe you feel the cold snow wind on your feet. Open wide so I can see down there. It’s a perfect sight, split single hair. Thin and meatless, you’re bones. Hugging your elbows, shivering. Maybe you feel the cold snow wind. Entering under fog machine. It’s a perfect night, trees hang like bones in dead air. Your clothes hang around your bones. Stand there hugging your elbows.
Protrusion 04:41
Taking steps to find the limits in excess. Making lines along the round sides. With boundaries set, you can really Clear your head and take the time You need to think. Several pitted posts, wooden boards across. Now you know where, you stay there. With your bubble in, you start to move around, And round again, now you know where. Will you leave gaps between the palings? Or close them up and hide the noise? Invested in each other through enforced debt. Sacrifice is something we ought to forget
The group is a machine. The hard exterior keeps it clean. Behind the panels I find what’s man made, it’s them, pedalling on. You are a series of forces as you go and I eat my own tail. Talking to no one, empty lecture hall with our speaker He’s been busy, planned a speech of great impotence. Outside there’s a storm any further attendance is unplanned. In from the rain comes an old man. He only enters to escape his own turmoil. Hardly even aware of the rain. Your life’s been troubled. Your existence forlorn. When you flew in the sky there was no wind in your wings. But never complacent, one eye was on us.
Lost an itch inside, swallowed high. Silence lost the words for what’s bothering you. Grammar squeezed by a cold clamp. Dictator’s disguise, for which you ought care for. Remembering everyone for what they didn’t do. Perhaps the think the same for you. Studious in hunting for a way off the hook. Taken for the worst, your name’s in a book somewhere. A new asylum formed on this side of near. What the others did, they admitted to. A mask of flesh floats on a set of legs and talks With no voice. Perhaps they think it’s best for you. Your familiar presence, one I try my best to ignore. How much longer should we spill blood for a bloodless bore?
Old dog you bark to nowhere. Time could be complex if you cared. An old character, chasing a name; Left behind, she lost her brain. A title only meant anything when they Knew what it was to enjoy aimless days While you can; one day that aim will Bear down and you won’t get to choose. In each moment of my reflection on it, As it plaques and sculpts, It springs and halts. Should it be white winged and pure? Graceful, leaving one ripple and no more? Your end is an end of an era for us all. Old dog, you bark no more. Nothing steps out of the thought Of it, in every step I walk. A shorter breath; longer to accept. The real curse in being here Is knowing I’ll be leaving here. I really don’t want to go.
Maudlin 02:57
Weary of birds, where do you lurk with your head buried deep in your neck? Laden with dirt, do you have to go first? Stood on one foot in the cold. It’s hard to see you go. It’s hard to see you coming back; one last stretch of divine Casts itself a different light and form. I will be a stranger to me under a mask, drag me out of it. It’s hard to see you on your own. You’ll find glory coming back. Once kept in now offered a chance to stretch. Maybe you can begin to walk, I always wanted you to, Though it’s hard to see you go.
Nebulon 04:29 video
We have arrived at the cost of Our enterprising thoughts. Are the new rules treating you well? The guilt, like never before, savaging, You knew that you could swipe time away With pointless luxuries, Maximised and drained, You sought what you gained. Ingesting what remained. The consequence for the individuals concerned; They behave unpredictably In the deep end of a tub. Dissolved in a tub.
Combine 02:11
The judiciary has arrived to rat you out. Once and for all, to pardon your souls For the wrongs of the right. A legacy lives on, though dead and gone And it’s confused an entire age. Waiting for a thimble to fill with blood For a flock to clear a copse. Highlight to me how it’s still possible to change. Because your body’s got a new shape And you have become burned by the fire but still limping through.
Muttering 06:30
Waking in a paranoid’s bed, look in the mirror to check they’re still dead Non-compromising mental retreat. Try and find a way, a non-academic way to say, to talk about your thoughts. Bet it was mundane. You know I’d rather chew through a phone wire connected to you If it would kill me when I bit through. I cannot think of a worse way to proceed than with out you clinging to me. The bridge drips and knows you by now. A lost bird shoots past your anthroapologies. You often look like you’re about to say something but you don’t. When I get home paranoia resumes, sitting alone.


released June 22, 2018


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