prismatic broken words,
an uncanny stink of whiskey,
i have evolved like a bee
phosphorescent iron blood
a cloying stink of mirror
a rasp eye stinking,
a yellow pain often talks to me in slumber,
the stirring pain in the canopy,
a blurred opaque Polaroid of nothingness( a favourite word)
it takes a sharp needle to sew the pores,
the segments already ruptured.
in the abstract mouth of liquids,
detonating like stars.
this place i breathe is punctured
like hips of an old lady,
vomits of the unborn in the epicentre seizures,
a mahogany bleeds, in bluish corners of knock.
horizontal bulbs drip blood instead of lights here,
this place of time and death,
a wasp of swollen sigh.
this place does this to me,
in hundreds of mouth,
hundreds of skin.
hundreds of sighs.