from The Figure (701-750)

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the figure

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from The Figure (701-750)

Fig. 701 You say: This is the End & of course I don’t fucking believe You

Fig. 702 1,000 Bodies had to burn in a Single Night & then, on a Descending Scale: 900, 400, 200 for the Daily ‘release’ to be reached again & for You to realize that 50 Bodies on average, are Torched every Night in this gentle Face of mine

Fig. 703 Here is where the Body espouses the cause of the Terror we Wear

Fig. 704 At this present Stage of Intimate Relations: of the Body, of the Face, of Language, of a portrait burning in the Mind, the slightest shift in *this Event is a Threat

Fig. 705 Even You, especially, are a Threat

Fig. 706 Yes, yes you-is

Fig. 707 This is recovering the Joy of the full-fledged Body, witnessing its Joy as the ultimate Sign of its impending fucking Downfall

Fig. 708 The exceptional exactness of “STOP, You Motherfucker”

Fig. 709 *This, is literally, the Hell of that which I Tower

Fig. 710 The Sad Singularity of each of my Events is a staging to prick upon “all’ya’all is Lost”

Fig. 711 Thy Labor is Thy slow-low Death

Fig. 712 The Body is the first circle to be penetrated; the horizon which it forms is the second to be penetrated; & throughout *this World, this primary Figure shall be penetrated without End

Fig. 713 I avoid the Corruption of (being) One, so that I might attain The Glory of Corrupting the Lot

Fig. 714 The City becomes a Figure removed from my Body as a Sinister Disguise, a creeping-along the Edge of the Mouth, or else I become the attempt, of something less Weighing, something less heart-breaking

Fig. 715 You take your Hand & run it along my Face, which drives me Mad, which drives-me to no Place other (other & then)

Fig. 716 There is no more imagining: your Body shall be a heart-breaking Surprise

Fig. 717 I knew it was You by how it felt when you gripped my Hair

Fig. 718 You became my first-ever & Ever was the dreaded-body, & ever

Fig. 719 This Song Sours Our Desour

Fig. 720 Your Big Ol’ Booty envelopes me with its Melody

Fig. 721 This is a Figure is a Figure of a Man is a Figure of You throughs-you a Man through a Moment through a History of a Moan experienced in the reverse of your Mouth is a Document of *this Fall as much as You, Fall

Fig. 722 I’ve longed to enter into the power of an abstract relation of the structure, frame & my rising nighttime

slipping respiration, away.

Fig. 723 OH, I fucking know what Tomorrow will bring

Fig. 724 The Face shrouds with each Step mowing-on down South

Fig. 725 Apparently, The Body extends past its Borders, away from *that World’s frosty frontier

Fig. 726 Let it be known: “I am coming for You”

Fig. 727 Torture, is trying to enter the point where one would become that elusive Object of Desire

Fig. 728 Beyond the End, shall be Thy ideal slum-place beyond the End shall be Thy restricted ritual Viewing of You undressing beyond the End shall be Thy only EXIT from this perpetual motion sickening beyond the End I shall be running ahead of The Body giving Head

Fig. 729 The Body is all ear ears-near towards my [s]—inside

Fig. 730 Oh mymymy little Fuck Lobster

Fig. 731 In Vein, I beg you to slip your Face in my Sleep in order to know Thy own Face is staring back, from Below, frozen in a pond & pounding

Fig. 732 The Figure is the Sign of someone passing-by, as an Outline, as your Hands motioning on-up Desire

Fig. 733 It’s not just that the Dead are coming for us but the Sensation in the skin that we will cave-in in Order for *this all to Begin

Fig. 734 Your Body, in my Mouth & breath drawers-in

Fig. 735 Pork Pants

Fig. 736 Now, as I remember my begging-towards your Body & those shitty little secret places which I’ve inhabited the meteoritic rising of The Body affixing itself to each Sad Arc of the Seasons

Fig. 737 Strangely, I understand that behind each strand of your Hair, in the Heat & behind my Fingers flocked the Sun

Fig. 738 Say: The Body is only Distance insofar as it displaces you, away from Desire as it broadens all around You; the wide-eyed gaping Ass of the City, is the Sign of your yearning, a Call, or the pitter-patter of my Feet on your Back, coming back

Fig. 739 The Worse Thing, is not so much as being seen as an Intruder, but rather, being regarded as an Object of Harm, a Displeasure, a Mass which effectively seethes to squeeze-out Desire

Fig. 740 Say: What I sacrificed quickened the Speed of the Fall

Fig. 741 Every Distance is a distance One can crawl

Fig. 742 The City designed Thy Body into a Riot of Conjecture, a Body seeming to take on the body-cracking & UP in Grief pushing right-in what splayed us all in the down-deep

Fig. 743 Curiously, I understood that Sense, of begging with which all Solitude resembles a wasp is nothing but Proof of the persistence of all that daily Sadness that intrudes upon us

Fig. 744 Licking each lovely-layer of your Face

Fig. 745 Thus, *this is about how I want to be an Intruder in your Life

Fig. 746 Say: The look on your Face is a Portrait of my Failures, made Visible

Fig. 747 The Journey that brought me to Your Body continues towards the Journey that takes me away from Your Body

Fig. 748 I’ve yet to come to the exact Crossroad where *this Construction would cease to Riddle

Fig. 749 It’s true: some days, I wish I were everyone’s Dad

Fig. 750 You say this is just the Beginning & of course, of course I fucking believe You