Mr. Tribe of Night

1.

tensile
secret filaments

anemone-like
radiating in quantum
around the head

astrally
fuck yes

elongated
is your
wavy bloom

winding
shifting
covert

you are yet
what
can't be seen

2.

Who hasn't gathered a few
regrets along the way?

Skulking uphill
in a gray driving rain.
Weary, lightheaded.

Mr. Tribe of Night.
With that hungry
feeling.

A thousand wasted nights.

Well,
you did it to yourself,
fool.

So better
let it count.