Now, open the door
And step on through
Into my suite of rooms.
And so very sweet
My rooms can be...
Door, closet, cupboard:
Here, where most of
What you're able to
See, carries 'pon
Its crosshatched back
A silent sliding metaphor
Of a well masked majick door.
Then, with a stride both
Noble and high-blood
Dignified, you approach
An Aeon in a gown.
And I may hide a prize in
Disguise: an eldritch gate
To the beating black meat
That is the heart of our
Common cold and callous
Eternity.
An eternity, not
Of words, but just an
Amorphous cloud of
Random
Scattered
Glyphs...
