old poetry I- "deep"a tentacle rises from a shallow pool rubbery, sticky, and dripping I take it in my hand and kiss it softly as I lick the cold brine from my lips it tightly embraces my body and pulls me below down to her, that gorgeous abomination our eyes meet briefly, but comfortingly I relenquish my breath, she pulls me to her scaly breast, opens up her mouth, and swallows me whole.old poetry I- "deep"
old poetry I- "guanine"xoxo rip them, chop them, carve them xoxo make me real for the first time xoxo burn them, eat them, starve them xoxo set me free from flesh made eyesold poetry I- "guanine"
in my dream, cut open and thrown away drip salty yellow jelly break the surface remove the pulp dried up, scabbed over, picked away
grotesque costume of an unborn mother bleed, die, and be buried separated and made whole again
xoxo gore them, slice them, break them xoxo let me into the light xoxo maul them, pull them, take them xoxo veins of blue, skin of white
in my
old poetry I- "cycle"two clocks tick uncooperatively second hands running a futile race. always a half step apart, neither with any idea which one is leading. each with compassion for the other, each an exhibition of creation through destruction. progress or chaos? sometimes they are one.old poetry I- "cycle"
NEW NEW NEW NEW
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My left hand is different from others...
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www.don.hk
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"Hello Destiny, I was seeing your friend Duty... He says very bad things about you!" - Freakazoid!
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I Think, Therefore I Am!
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