Analysis of Anon

Every hour wounds... The last one kills you
with its look of indifference and tears
wave goodbye from the corner of your eyes,
there's no time to release a sigh into
memory's hazy scenes for the dreams are...

Every hour wounds... The last one loves you
with its painful twisted fascination:
the promise of demise; rippled on thighs,
moments stretch forever's lies across cool
blue death; decayed, it sprays a prayer around...