mort mot juste

março 21, 2007


in the morning i wake up with a floating spirit's call. something bites down hard on the flesh between my legs, interrupting my yawning thoughts of love and i can't remember what day it is, nor what city it is so i ask the dragon that hangs from the chandelier by its tail, the only answer i get is fire and loud laughter now my hair is on fire as i calmly feel the floor with bare feet in search for slippers, the stairway to the kitchen is guarded by fat, pink bats that fill out forms everytime someone crosses their territory. i wave at them, they know me so they let me through no questions asked, downstairs i empty a large glass of water the window to the backyard reveals my head, red and burning still. i swallow a sleeping pill and caress a cat in the ear, the house melts down and i can finally pass out.

maria 1:24 PM 1 vociferando estavam

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