our modern world
<![CDATA[
<body>
]]>
Sunday, June 04, 2006
stiff-standing.
pasted on the white wall.
tacks lined along the outline
of gyrated positions,
switching here and there.
you make me.
short-breathed.
my lips shut together,
intertwined with wires,
in-out of flesh.
losing.
i am.
swinging light.
flashes of black and white.
then red then black.
a thick crimson fluid
flwing from beneath
the white wall, and
tacks falling down.
where?
a shifting huge mass.
insanity.
"there is a wall that ruuuns right through me"- kreuzberg, bloc party
Free Hit Counter