Red terrifies ugly beasts,
with their talons and scars
all muddled in darkness.
Swaddle my wounds,
those running bright
from meaningless intentions,
neglecting all clothe but yours.
Monotony, the necessary profession,
how you carve stability into unpredictability!
We clothe, we discard, into the hamper they go,
wash, dry, come out clean,
Bringing forth idleness to otherwise angelic hands.
I tried once,
Cuff doubt away,
heart was broken.
Self hatred stems from anger,
How can anger anger me?
Anger for you, your polemic ways,
your handle, my silent therapy.
My anger wants you gone,
my anger wants you gone.
Dark rooms do wonders for the eyes,
though thumping chests proceed.
Is this cliche, a sneak stole my heart.
She gave it back for all eyes…
my essence, now a donation.
A world of black and white,
my scarlet, my dear Ibis,
take me from the group,
take me with your grace.
Identification of a Woman (1982)
Spine No. 585
Claiming I’m an expert scholar of everything Antonioni would be a mistake. I’ve seen a few of his […]
is it a race? a battle? a measure of size?
with my pace, one clicks while the other clocks,
how about you?
is it similar?
Limitations beseech weary minds
allowing thoughts of worth residence,
abilities anxiously attend the front,
“if she is not culinary then what is
Truth lacks flexibility by definition.
Character thus claims the eagles
soaring through painful heights!