They take, and they don’t take lightly– Vicious cycles sometimes have faces with barren eyes and aphid bellies full of insatiable desire– Consider the state of your soul’s diet, and exorcise regularly. Advertisements
While waiting for the bus that stopped running many years ago the empty bench dreamed of a world where people still had time to sit and drift along in reveries that led nowhere slowly.
Strains of lunacy, befalling poets and clowns– Homesick for the moon. (Artwork by Cezanne)
It is not her grief but ours, seeking pure outlet beyond mortal scars.
It was exact, and inflamed, her relationship to the line, to the geometry of tension and its stringent brood– Craft demands the utmost attention, which she paid, by subjecting the veins of petals and moon-eaten skulls to the edges of … Continue reading
In a whitehot flash, the map of one’s life exposed– Many roles, then fade.
No prism. No idealogy. No agenda. Simply– Hell hath no fury like a woman scorched and swallowed by desert, bones set to reform and return as a wind-knit skeleton dancing upon the gouged names of its freighted oppressors. (Artwork … Continue reading
It’s less a fetish and more of a — I’m sorry, what was I saying?
Softly, so softly, the world converted itself to cite how she felt.
As if luring us to become one with the sun– Melting optional. (Artwork by Edvard Munch)
