de torres | Sade | nothing can come between us

 

it’s the feeling i’ve got right now.

 

but so often, how steadfast i should be. and the tired presses against the weak. the faint’ the brittle. come back to me, i would have to say so. even if it meant nothing to you. they’re just words. they burn some clarity away from assumption.

rightfully so, though once they are mine i make them what i want them to be.

 

—

 

or do you not think those things? or that none of this ever happened? instead that i was just so wrong, so plainly false. that i lived something flashing along a blunt edge, something in passing I held so close. placed a mark so off i could not walk it back. and that you gave it no second thought. that you did not leave at all. that could be possible too, i guess, and time makes me only wonder. is this still brave? do you need me more at all? maybe you know just how much I can hold and have never doubted. so you do not worry. and when you come back, i would not ever have either. you would find me as i said, calm. patient. proper. because I’d be right then, that i was once again foolish. pretending to something foreign only totally. and that is why. like a return. something i should expect to happen. and maybe you would never ask what i did in the meantime. and we would not wonder. that I could tell you i will not ask you either. and that would make you certain. that you would be sure to never again. because we are bound. by some glad marrow.

in a breathless cadence

 

—

 

 

 

for you to keep. i have all i can hold already. place them in my arms. like so. and it would feel like that i’m sure if this was ours. by lsd

 

CATEGORIES: art, music

Notre dame de paris | Collapsed Crane | 籠屋 | something that lasts

 

carry into the future something that lasts. like accidents, disasters, and cruelty do.

 

 

there too – i think about lean-ness and efficiency. desire to cut down ever-further toward a solid hardened state. confusing venture, no less impossible and vile.

 

 

little left but to take away is an irredeemable position. i wish no more. i take all. once it is mine. i surely dream.

 

 

they were just constantly flying in circles.
constantly flying in huge circles.
(laurie anderson, the beginning of memory)

what about the ten thousand year clock, or the pyramids of germany, the practice of caving. these mass projects of human dominance, in which we take into the unknown (profound or unfounded) the meager seed of our ingenuity. keep mine my own. let it be said that i was there once. such and such. as it were.

if we fit everyone in – just how much could we think, together? the box in the home becomes the home. and what if we stopped living entirely? i was recently told about tangential metamorphosis – how i could no longer be human only without transformation – a neutered permanent alter-state. conniptive reluctance. trespassing human crowding by removing ourselves from humanity.

 

 

and if it all went ahead, and then came to an end? do we have the chance to really see it through? lines drawn like aching joints do. by lsd

 

CATEGORIES: art, musings