Friday, 28 February 2014

Mercury and Sulphur


nettled into running full speed at the bill board an illusion we fly clean through with an attractive bruise for youth a widow stamp crawls from where I can feel to where you can see leaving a keyhole that one day will fit this key if I collect enough for entry into their room

there’s a voice the only thing moving my voice swallowing itself in the corner there was a lot I didn’t understand being afraid of tanning or fading the distance clear against the sky five minutes away from my out of focus watching my back for now swarms of now on the failing landscape it’s tempting to lie down be convenient nigredo in sight of nowhere

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