| A corpus of unmitigated withholding, akin to the birther of twice-identified public realms of spite, this toe-hounding is the facts where we find ourselves so late in the day, yet still light out, but only barely. ____________ The anxiety of withholding capitalizes on our mundane measures of previous understanding sutured with a crisp whip of futures solidified by their unknowing blankness – by being what we do not want to hear. A torture best, the flagrant display of desire unto desire withheld but still wanting, announced vis a vis the purchase of bewildering flatness, the rise and hull of a two-second nip whereby the inundated becomes the rankles. This furthers the nuances of quelled becoming by becoming one where we are two, two where we are seven; a solid where we were, and still are, ice: only tentatively the thing thus named so. _________ This present pretty rancors with a toppled eardrum abetting the difference between sight and sound. A hot dagger on the tongue burns bright enough to get the desire higher. To find an instance of height is to be free of the ground and the sources of essence. We seek reality in art where there is none, our fishing futile, our blunders all the more awkward for being born. __________ Analogy: perspective. Triple the dot duration as if they were their own common associate. A trajectory can play chess or not, but it kings the checkers by flogging all things black. That was not a coincidence of air – hardly meeting two movements interested. This is the coup of all things aligned, only inappropriately so. And so troubled with the desire for being naked.
| wildfire buckwheat cauliflower crepe relax _____________a dose of guerrilla gone ape- shit. This is a sight of -________________________muscle relaxants and nuclear trust devestation. _________________________ ________________________Has anyone changed anything to the point where the point points toward fluffknuckle _______________________________pointlessness? an_______freckle fuck’d you divvy the drawers and lilac the stupenclock aberrant +++++ closure. __________ __________ ________________The tourniquet of double-stank’d gooseripple__________clear through the snake of it _____________muddled further than the first one we laid eyes on. ________________________Burrow beneath the lamb and ___________slattern the craze for junk in the trunk of our bed. ________________________hold me, breathless and tired underneath these hot heavy blankets. ___________ This h’olden desire to freak, to fuck to be another thing to another body ___________________gobble that craft salad and hold your gut in _____ gradually saying: ______________ yeah, motherfucker, __________________+___I really did this to you. |
