Balk at the segue of darkness: you’re of it- let the closing teeth of day bite you, assimilate in the taste of night, in pieces, and with the Abyss’s sensibilities commune.
The night has earned a darkness no destiny can meet. Fate takes a baffled Will- eject the fiction of all need; match Necessity sting for sting, lest you be but an echo of the Time.
S. T. Brant is a teacher from Las Vegas. Pubs in/coming from EcoTheo, Door is a Jar, Santa Clara Review, Rain Taxi, New South, Green Mountains Review, Another Chicago Magazine, Ekstasis, 8 Poems, a few others. You can find him on Twitter @terriblebinth or Instagram @shanelemagne.