By Standing Where Space Blinks
Snapped fabrics of everything. Blood from an asteroid's glimmering sex is a bright, neon-blue, cinematic and devoted to magic. She calls right through thirty-twos, curlicues of tenements in her hair. An afflicted knot of scaly creatures knocks, chops and slithers over entire galaxies of disconnected, pink spines. We compared our shattering to bullets of aroma, gods demanding that white swans and eyes of barbwire coalesce into one wing that is immortal, that talks in the language of funhouse mirrors and roaring guitars. Lashes to the bone, pockets full of ourselves, this ballet wants you to freeze as virgins head time multiplied by theories of pouting flesh.
Empty, indifferent and backward, Iam composed almost entirely of wind-blown hair, erosions between a jellybean and a tiger waiting to become psychic. Primitive shadows huddle together like squinting thrown over our shoulders, light soured to reactivate the simulacra's latest outlaw psychoanalysts at the hum of coldly nebulous arcs shivering behind you in the morning's cold amphetamine twitch. Iam quiet now, talking chasms of internal flash and skewered vermillion tears, yielding to marble smiles and whatever else is moist about being seduced.
All Our Actions Are Straw, Shiny and Tall
Your nanosecond hints at moments spent dreaming the post-semen summer, days that see through my flesh like the finest wine. Alien fields of percussion stagger from my fingers, welcomed as the distance to the floor is left alone to unravel trouble with the all-encompassing white against where you see wonder and facades that shake you with their fire.
Liminal (what beams are two) Her flying saucer is (High Density), knees shredded, hair splayed onto/Dualities As a Substitute (diamond-hard, crystalline skylines stick out their lascivious tongues)The Miracle of underwater psychology against what is already lit: Wiggling, jiggling acreage (here half-expecting whole-tones to sweat pairs of ambrosia, electric arms needled by This World's Sterile Frame)/Good to swing and swagger (musical heat bounces/an occult inversion) To: prove (your breasts are the sphinx and the agency of Taoism all at once: Particles Engineered Inside Love's Name/worn for a brief moment, then tossed into the whorl of (Evolving Lips)
5 May 2008
Posted by Robert at 18:39
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4 comments:
I lovin your pysche-sexual sci-fi sagas rob, some really sweet images in tis
when i read your work i feel as if we have shared bodily fluids!
This is my shit!!
sci-fi sex, shit and shared bodily fluids
only on Discharge! LOL
thanks folks!!
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