Saturday, September 19, 2009

Life: A Story

Life, an exceptionally foreboding domicile, wrought with the absence of silence, eternity PEERING through you as each instant decays. She whispers… you can Feel it [TASTE], an ever-preening presence begging for that… [A TASTE] – she knows you, she knows you have it – the way in which you have it.

She Wants It

DEATHhhhhhh: drawn out of my every pore – my being – defiant in nature, of life, defiant of herself. Her tongue flickers speaks [tastes]. She [smells] you immortal. Her. Breath. Less. Lungs.

wondering: “what now?”

Her tongue flickers… again. [TASTE], she craves it like sex. Like émigré, drawing foreign blood with her pencils – a [SIGHT] unseen, like air departing… forever.

And who’s to tell her ‘ no ‘ ?

ɹǝɥ ɟo ǝɯ spuıɯǝɹ ǝɟıן

But, who am I? tocr, tocr, tocr, to critique WHO AM I to gaze?

We paint each other backwards. Her, fresh, lilacs light up

up the room. With fingertip embraces and Sistine eyes

devouring the very SOUL which resides within my

bleed. blood. I bleed for her safety (amusement)

with both hands trembling, staring to the sky

she wants to [FEEL] it, to [HEAR] it, to…

contain it within her whimsy. a dream

and me. standing here. alone. here

SCREAMING!!!!!! silent

barren desolate. amalgam

THIS was my vision of her, of us – death, like a horseless carriage barreling down the turnpike of disaster.

ME – reaching for the ropes, but none sufficed to steer this bird… down down down down

HER – remembering me this way.

Lips sealed together, concealing secrets within one, eternal kiss. And

Life. An exceptionally foreboding domicile.

Wrought with THE ABSENCE OF silence.

Peering Whispering ever-Preening



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