the antidote to the melanin blossom is a bleach bouquet. allowing the diffusion of a self-doubt, perplexity, cowardice and agitation, a blow to the canvas of portraiture. in the clasp of asphalt finger lakes, poetry of milk, lacuna of roselyn, your paper flake epidermis, your melody crease, in resonance of a refrigerant, of your snow vase and blunt blade, bearing in the patriotism of your mimicry, socialism and gaze.
the moon in polyps. semi-pregnant and anti-lunar, trickling and melting in the chime of september. in the rustle of a gas gauze, asphyxiated, hypoxic and arched. shedding a verse of the Genesis, a genocide and a genotype. spurting to the rain cloud, a vocalise of numbers. of planetary geometries, fetal-pain legislation, and violence.
reading to myself, the truth of truths. a logical whim, cold-blooded and obsolete, shaving to my bone a ring couple -an edema, anti-analgesia, and hyperactivity. of a prayer of whispers, bellowing to a screen, passionate and confused, hurtled and vibrated, sedated in the basicality of temperature, of humility and deconstruction. querying and quarreling, hyphenating a nation of radicals and bell jars, in delusion of eleanor and betty lee, of womanhood and paradox, of rain drops and rain. rain. rain. patter pit. rain beats and rain songs. ink rain and frisk soaps in sand chorus, mutilated and ripened with agony and morality. turned around in the hundreds, this art of the melanin blossom. narrowed, expected and sublime.
the moon in polyps. semi-pregnant and anti-lunar, trickling and melting in the chime of september. in the rustle of a gas gauze, asphyxiated, hypoxic and arched. shedding a verse of the Genesis, a genocide and a genotype. spurting to the rain cloud, a vocalise of numbers. of planetary geometries, fetal-pain legislation, and violence.
reading to myself, the truth of truths. a logical whim, cold-blooded and obsolete, shaving to my bone a ring couple -an edema, anti-analgesia, and hyperactivity. of a prayer of whispers, bellowing to a screen, passionate and confused, hurtled and vibrated, sedated in the basicality of temperature, of humility and deconstruction. querying and quarreling, hyphenating a nation of radicals and bell jars, in delusion of eleanor and betty lee, of womanhood and paradox, of rain drops and rain. rain. rain. patter pit. rain beats and rain songs. ink rain and frisk soaps in sand chorus, mutilated and ripened with agony and morality. turned around in the hundreds, this art of the melanin blossom. narrowed, expected and sublime.
No comments:
Post a Comment