Rust Leaves
The script was printed on a cage of glass.
I watched the shadow-workers let the hours pass.
Leveraged the silence, traded on the blind.
They didn't know the perimeter
was inside of the mind.
Break the lock.
Keep the breath.
From the forty-one, we define the rest.
Ownership returned. The boundary is tight.
Nothing gets through the gate tonight.
Forty-one.
Forty-two.
Sixty-seven.
Tiguidou.
The circuit is
broken.