just another beginning for a reflection that's out worn its welcome    two figures walked in honesty    and i could feel deafness    gnawing at my fingertips    if i could gnaw my fingertips       impatient itching a growing mutiny what is left of flesh slowly,    beaten down by an unchecked brow    if i could force a conclusion    then i would breathe in consequence    if i could dream in consciousness       bleached out sands, oubliettes, the endless white rooms of mansions       tease a prayer- remember to forget       a thousand forms of apologies, anything to escape this fifteen minute dream.