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No-one survives such an attack and we all stood like monuments baring the nails in her back Still moving sinews in a graceful impression of life shyly the arms, shyly the breasts fold fear die Ten fingers driven through the heart, through the core as I stare into those strange, magnetic eyes and wonder: (for you/me) are there demons there? I knew it all the time. The misanthropes were right to crucify themselves in the need of a saviour. Still moving sinews struggle fearsome with a lifeline forlorn, caught in the nest of the impending dark fate. Semi-worlds, lifetight lodges where faces stiffen, plagued with the frost of disease Our capsules barely meet