Running from the energy of…taking off for the next room and…
the imagelooks seriousand death gigglesat our fearful lives.
Words try coiling around the fingers – conscious synthesis – but slip into a form of your voice and body…
Imagining – only closes so much distance – torn between breaths breath breathing – something doesn’t…
Stymying hill up but climbing down not so easy – I cross a thousand…
Twisting at finger in pocket like something never spent — or something that organically detaches —
get fucking exhausted
From outside the stoned reality has gone grey —has tucked reasoning into WM bin shadows – cobblestone…
Don’t spray that inside – ass crash but pants on or off the wound expands – startled…