I might happily have thrived in another game
Painting in oils in neoplatonic darkness. A white zinc
To follow a path out /

A green thumb trying to paint and cover
Dabs of marine titanium that oscillate
Blurring the root truth for up to an hour —

Truth releasing a genocidal collage of screens, like
Thinking in agitated waves, reproached, disappeared
In drumming opinions and worst practices

\ off the board, with no fear of falling.