The guts to turn his filthy fist into this strange and silly little thing

Creating gold from derelict fiction again
Presses her curved forefinger surging against his grounded thumb-nail

A distant woman, real-time man settled eerily together – death appears to mean nothing so much when an ethereal in-between sets to soar

Is this in fact the invisibility cloak – smacks of a cradled kind of an opportune diction

He speaks to her throughout the ending of his pierced (play)pen
Never the same utensil, except of course for it’s forbidden ear-piece

Viciously, visually implemented
When things get exaggerated and desirably distorted. That is when the real magic happens.

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