Leave Babylon, sequester yourself and brace.

Prophesy Badon and bide your time.

Mark the days – watch the news and horizon.

Hiding in plain sight, like a mountain-side monastic.

Far from din and cackle.

Perspective granting clarity.

Objectification, make objects of us all.

Self-imposed exile in love with its own narcissism.

When all are forms, to touch is to destroy.

So where is home?

Where is the anchor?

When will quiet still me?

Love and a waxing penumbra.

Anger, shame and the famine of thieves ‘ lust

Mountain, deafen me.

–L.A. Repucci