at canon’s jump

there is a laughing echo.

With fingers, With fingers.

There is a crimson hunt

Through the loose leaves and the pages.

For the names.

 

With fingers

For the names.

There is a laughing echo.

There is a crimson hunt.

At canons jump.

This is a wretched home.

 

There is a laughing echo.

With fingers

At canons jump

There is a crimson hunt,

For this? Wretched home.

 

At canon’s jump

The violent teeth

Found the crimson cuticles,

imprisoned fingers.

Let loose,

Let loose.

 

This home is not for me.

That echo

is the laughing me .