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.
