Up to fiery gates, then after the hard twirl of events, all the licked webs, she ran through the burnt field like the vagaries of 'totally' and 'absolutely,' being careful at all times not to manifest a third avant-garde, insisting on the raw usages for new words in her mother's swinging unconscious. Two irises coupled with deep geographical voodoo time barely hint at the pearly aphrodisiacs trapped in the air, electrode nipples slurped down quickly. Cheap, tight leather boots, the smoke from a discarded cigarette rising nervously to caress her thigh-highs. The special quality of anti-gravity during the hours she grew extra limbs was a drizzle of fluctuating intensities stretched to hear a single disembodied voice, one impossible orbit to fuse with others.
No comments:
Post a Comment