Open fingers wincethe scar from the fishhookI caught in my left forefinger at 15…
I can’t be moved just now
There was time saved under the bed for this magnetic atmosphere, the slow perpetual sludge of…
Steps to the rhythmof sulfurCasting deadly spinsthrough the airThe walk kept goingand cursing…
Though not well ¬ often
Do you ever feellike your heart justwon’t fucking move
When your brain goesentirely grey indicating/summoningthe presence of a fog machinethe monsters of confusion in a twisted…
Some slow movementlike the risefrom a perpetual crouch
A vain though utterdesire camemade it through the spectrum in theshape of wishes