I like to be hybrid and plexus.
the center is something that should be c-lust-er. where in the middle under layer of sound of the "end" is "lust". for one cent or less.
one center should exist only when I want to infiltrate the center of him.
my name means «the meaning».
my assemblage point named «good again», I'm good again, but I was yes.
I was yesterday, with my whole room.
i was sacred, real yes to excess and grey.
my assemblage point is between twin and a cancerous tumor.
or between two most round things - human head and tear.
in the crystal of thunder.
I'm her garden.
I'm her fork.
I'm her venus.
I feel fun-nel in the place of sun.
a dense heavyweight sun in the place of my body, like soil and brain.
sun on me it's always sun of my twin.
sun on body wants you want to be alone.
I always agree with vibration under the word «tree», but «sun» need a pair that strange enough, like «4th level of sun», detailed research for something complicated for justification.
«cliche» is a beautiful as word. the seal at least is pushed and sticky, may not work, sun is less than a cliche.
I can't not have sun so elegantly beautifully as you with your double falling even.
you are nothing like sun.
«good again» symbolized like circle around.
I will tell you that I will help you get your things.
and at that time I will change them while you are not looking.
so that I can see you again.
i haven't stopped being a fountain with monkeys and ears yet, especially in hands. you're had a pig pen.
imitation of kinzugi - natural rhythm of this life in me.
I'm invisible for heavenly bodies, for colours that swimming inside themselves, alive and glossy liquid, they're not actualized me.
but something under consciousness made me actualized being.
I believe that house doesn't saying anything about anybody.
I **** myself because people can't talk. you're tell them everything, and it's still meaningless.
remember stealing? I'm still stealing, but at least without editing. still feel. the same way?
feel is inverted «live» with released, closed eyes. released like fire. exist only in sound from mouth or conscious mistake.
will you concentrate on «evil» or never noticed?
your eyes is «ice» or «yes»?
«leave» is even not inverted, just «i» converted to «ave».
«yes» is inverted «hell» on my first language, only two letters.
70% of my life is mercury, I drowned 70℅ of my life in that poison, and scattering, broken temperatures, flowing, a words of 1000 1000-pages books and my words on other side of mirror. and years without pages.
70% of years and nights I'm looking for a mirror for mercury in my head.
this mirror glued in the shell, but run from RNA.
so far, I have only mirror of my opportunity in other people's words.
I'm nobody, I'm yesbody.
my body is an inscriptions on forehead.
still remember the phobia of «be kind» before mirror, like behind.
before me, before or, before head, before for and be.
maybe it was a premonition. kindness is an instinct. and fear is an instinctive knowledge of cruel consequences of kindness, not of its necessity. so in fact, this fear is kinda embodiment of kindness.
anyway i'm living in chalk on the floor and inside the door.
I have and need word «lips» on knees.
knees that I can cover myself with.
all parts of my body like knees, forehead and lips.
i wanna listening to own body with face and the back of a head.
all I need is knees and words. together is a bells world.
breathing, centuries.
only between doubleness and decay.
I am snake through page, i am snake and page between us.
I learned how to read in Nevers.
your whole body should be like eyelashes to mine.
no lash, no ash, shhh. they're should drink liquid black gloss and feed me.
I need slipping. and awake. and slipping. my venus earlier than even moon. even moon again. I'm running consciously into your mars, your Mars in ash, in shhh around drawed arrow, grab the hour hand with fist like it's a seance, to move along the same segment, but just further. although I am 4 and you are 3, but I am also 1, and you are 3 for my 1. but I'm 4, but 3 was freedom.
and then I became a moon, and then my home is without any me at the end, only ha, only use. and then i ******* electrically into destruction of hands, into shaking sun.
after knot I find ange* and weapon with inscription «moony hands», between roots
in them and not.
sometimes it's not a form of knife, it's a body with hands and feet, still with beaded inscriptions.
i protect agression with moon knife.
I need write line on the edge of your moon that clinging to my mars and hands. and I don't want to write any word about him.
words of my birth and lust want to know content of nodes.
what drives me out
from under
a down-pour to a room where
I can find paper and ink, only to run back out into the rain?
pull out the all computer parts with wires where there dirt and no outlets outside, or pull it out in the rain and will burn out, the matrices will flow. in pink. on neck.
is it the mad mud moon drives me out to record, or mercury, since his doubleness, was pluto? I think, he's not just an genderless twin and child, he knows how to ****, he's **** my mess. every book and every word rapes me. Persephone rapes herself. and I want to **** the image of Aphrodite with Persephone, with her hair from under scissors.
hermes is hermit, hermes is hides, is hades.
orbiting, or biting.
just not to hide, just to hide.
four days it's a four weeks in month.
for first day I'm a twin, then equal to milk and flower, then half-snake, then suede
and a sketch of languor on the sand gorgeous suede. but it's a 4th day and now i know that i can't enjoy, it will happen tomorrow, although right now i merged with venus, and oeuvre is under venus. but suede under desert sand will happened after sun, and sun will happen only next time, because now it's obviously night.
at the same time i think: "creamy sand suede", "desert suede". about cream and sand at the same time, sandstorms, tiptoes, the sound of word desert like sweetness in different language, and different language in fact is mine.
and hourglass. drawed hourglass, in chalk, two triangles, with circle, like it's head.
inappropriate creativity. I realize how i look forward to desert as the apogee of creativity because sun. and because I'm a half-snake, almost mermaid. only thing that carries here the water right in body. and i thrown my body on another snake, to find wetness, sweetness in each other.
a snake is never a ***** unless it's you who just can't have, hold and just give, just give enough love. and warmdevotion. and attachment without cowardly slipperiness and sleepy glances for what it could means, although most of the time it's about crawling into cognition. and conscious choice of pharmaceutical doze of obsession and surrender. better learn to lean, and cling. and cli. and ling. and L. and in. and intertwine. respect surrender, respect surrender, respect surrender, respect surrender, possession, dissolution and complexes of merging.
but it's a 4 1/2 days, not 4.
I'm half-snake, twin and equal to flower, to the suede.
it's all happening together only in the day of birth.
and then what's happening - the rest of days. and the rest of days because birth I crucified from memorizing this echo and imprint.
and I just have to not suffer from morality
that only depends on time and place, but depends on it like birth.
but just like birth.
so disgusting lovely word order.
I'm that, I'm not twin to flower to snake to suede. I'm four "but", like walls. walls are good and bad. and after birth i can only enjoy how that fifth element of cancer and can'tcer of everything in me, cancer and can'tcer of today, that intertwining tongues of twins on lowest transparent thick flexible aquamarine page in me, speakers and annihilators, where the ocean of sleep like two twins.
it can develop only after years of life.
people with echoes still makes act the right way.
remember that this is the way to act, but forgot that this is the right way.
insert a guilt wire between the layers.
these words in place where self-esteem is hurt,
self in place that curated by editing,
but I'm manifested in conscious mistakes,
in assemblage,
in service,
but in 1st
where solar experience too old, sun tied and overflowed, and in 1st, the reversed node that looks like a normally standing bowl
