the idea logs

this started as a notebook.

just that, a
place to write our nightmares down.

but they
were read aloud,

to heads nodding,
fists pounding air,

and before long,
common rhetoric.

not long after that,
a pretext.

nothing after
that but
a dialect of demons
and an infeasible
sense of
falling
become feasible
after all.

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