“The answer is you and I, it always is. In that sea of dust, there was nothing. Quiet, not a wave, not a sound. In that flat endless world, a soft and gentle breeze started to blow.”
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We share the same affliction, him and I.
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Tell me your pretty name so I might write you a portrait.
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Piece by piece, Korea was sold.
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With all the furniture removed, the house looked tired.
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“You cannot dispel the song from your mind, it plays and plays on repeat.”
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I don’t want one thousand words | Screaming at a black hole.
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Somehow, by some act of God or the Devil or someone between, his dog has been transfigured into a block of cheese.
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A love letter in soil-loving solidarity.
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To be human, is to be a supermarket stroller.
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A split requires the relinquishing of self to another and for another.
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a vastness of ocean
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half of me belongs squatting on plastic stools
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I ate oranges and didn’t know they tasted like sunset from Castle Hill.
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It exists within another.
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Every life spread out, mine parallel to yours parallel to everyone else’s.
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Voyeurism is an affair of the mouth.
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You move through the grain of closed eyes, calling through the undergrowth of my body.
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