...Even I breathe despite kloudoscope...

Toujours rien.

_________________________________________________________________________________

  Rotten Flesh 

(Satirical Sting).

  

(Of) Surreptitious strong minute

Like a key mark, in pocket

Naked facing in the mirror

Smiling, expired, look a straightaway.

The whistle already made presence

Current ranges, the same sobbing

Silicon in the surrounding noggin,

Cement in the luminous pores.

A shade hides the ruse

Under the shelf, ocean and sulfur

Laugh for fourth time, threatened stream.

Satirical sting

Welcome the forthcoming redeemer.