Friday, March 14, 2008
Phantom rings of phones and things, the besot mess of this bliss, kiss, abyss into the ditch of power. Submerged, submissive in the blind looking for the kind, where are you, searching for two, maybe three, drink glee, jump happy, quick snappy, you don't respond, restless, joyless, passionless, more less. Grinding down shades of gray into crumbs, particles of past pictures present, molecules of movement managing the menace, filling in the empty holes with spackle. Strength pervades weakness, one point for me, you lose, I am lost, it's a play can't you see? Stuck in traffic on the freeway of desire, you fucking liar, hold me, mold me, whatever you want I have.