We feasted on theregardlessly,the outbreak of godamongst the disheveledwas { never | silent |- feared }those prepared for ruinwithout name or numberfor first Isought with blistered eyesthose whosang with slit throatswith the slightly divinetouch was forfeiteverything a ghostthis is a chance, was said like demons prostrate at last massnames faintly airedprayers stricken retrogradewe feasted on the remains of goda cackle of ancient tonguesdisfigured memories of unionunrecognized selvesserved us well
Sta.sh
