“I am pleased enough with the surfaces – in fact they alone seem to me to be of much importance. Such things for example as the grasp of a child’s hand in your own, the flavor of an apple, the embrace of a friend or lover, the silk of a girl’s thigh, the sunlight on the rock and leaves, the feel of music, the bark of a tree, the abrasion of granite and sand, the plunge of clear water into a pool, the face of the wind – what else is there? What else do we need?”
― Edward Abbey

Flee,
heeding no
torturous
constriction
debilitation
defamation–
far away.

Gaze,
into depth
of cavernous
hopelessness
weariness
gnawing gloom–
endless night.

Fall,
stricken with
suffocating
shame
blame
extinguished–
no return.

Succumb,
blinded by
visionless
pain
soul-crippling
lot–
bleak demise.