“Beyond this, there are
my Fingers, in your Hair, your Shoulder, the Way you Turn, your Smile, as if an
Emanating Structure, appearing in a Sight, of your own body, a recognition, of
something, just on the other side, of Familiar:
a Pleasantry, enriching, my own Desire, so bad, that I myself, cannot Help, but
be tendered, in this little Scene, and my apparent inability, to Possess, this rudimentary Narrative,
which is Necessary, which is like, falling over
“going down”-----------àwhich in the End, is a
Snippet, is Livid, in the Frame, of our Love.”
-Boris Izsus 2010
