In Negate of Threshold's Arithmetic
Scratched equipment flicks in sound, both progress tuned and friction ground. Found tapers plume to light wronged path. Too bad subtracton's withheld math.
Each drip begets a minor haze— a phase, distorted, ripping ways. Blight's channel, carved on switch of strife, bewitches sight to segment life.
What sacred pupils comprehend, well-fed and blinded to descend, lips gnarly hunger's scant rebate, as biting curs a fate sedate.
Think not where Fortune skips taught need. For neither frame will intercede between sought glomp —division learned— and devastations scholar-spurned.
Written July 25, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.