My mind is well lubricated

yet my brain feels dry

It lacks the fluid images

linking images into confluence

I browse the room

 mix poisons from illuminated bottles

In just one night the toad is exposed

I have become a judge of liars recognise thieves

inhale the consequence accept the truth

A terrifying look as one rolls over

Pushed to an invisible ledge identity lost

A character from a novel

a personal assassin

Half frenzied flesh Half cursed poet

The number killed blurs after the first

Letting it build until an encased exoskeleton

There are a million different ways to kill the tender parts

The frog overturned only to discover its soft underbelly