“And despite my Confessions: Pain is the
very Name subscribed to this Heart, and
yet, when I am away from you, why can my right Hand, not block out the Sun or,
your Face in the Sun—[?] Still and to the More, I find this Sensation
akin to being a Drift in a ferocious Movement of taught Muscles and
fucking Bones, which again, reminds
me of waking to the familiar Sound of you scratching my Arms and Giggling over
that which, slopes one towards a
Heaven: is the possibility of that which, can never, nor would want, to be,
Described, at least, *this Time”
-Boris Izsus 2008
