A depth of carion...

A depth of carion, some swine and a voluminious display of hollow... This is a shoddy moment in my life, that the mention of a spectral glimpse, a tethered nightgown or some glacial pumps should bring solicitude? Or was it sure contemptuous footsteps upon my passage? Perhaps I shall never be cheered? Perhaps my eyes shall be burnt as I wander in stately thrum, closed to a tiny tune, along the corridors of my lady's tepid mind-gas? The stretch of these moments abates me...