it is so easy to **** me unknown brother carved Samaritan image do yourself a favor I’m an undecided blotch of color indigo reaching for purple shut at once the book you read from and I’ll become a butterfly with my wings crucified on two pages
~~~ maybe because of the need to forget I see death as a hindrance on the wheel of torture a camphorated ointment for nervous fibers ends I’m closer today to the tree for hanging the noose from which God forbid you to taste look vanitas vanitatum Yorick’s head lies on your plate when you receive your alms the candle the baked apple and the wheat porridge helping
~~~ I stand up facing the wall my voice isn’t yet untied I wonder what is stronger and if the heart tips the scales my achy breaky heart on the balance between life and death there are a few extra grams of soul we will need very tiny jewellery weights psalm 103 Fibonacci’s series the golden ratio
~~~ look my child the soft carpet my warm body upon which you step this sacred day my soles are thin they stick to the red clay I turn upon the potter’s wheel my everlasting mentioning like I was that’s how I’ll stay a crumb of Eucharist bread on the lips the first and the last