Man unmanned

My dear pursuer
yet again I stretch this wild eyed stripe of soily fabric all over facade of vision. You recognize shallow doze in every space, in any rupture of time between seemingly unmanned motions of the bleak anatomy do you? As ever it starts with a question. A question ruining shiny trays filled with noble facts, fading memory, eventually the questions themselves. Fabric is catching calming warmth. Anything better on call?

Undercover I get occluded with daily trafic. In transition I see all those shallow dozes of passengers waiting to get from A to B. But who is their watchman but me? I might let them dream in this alluring latency of tangible interspace. I might set the questions of ruin. But I'm gonna observe while my wild eyed stripe gets torn as the finest arachnal web and opens the gates for incursion of narcotic white.
Yet again, my dear pusruer, see my man anatomy unmanned.