restlessness spits the wall of death in hunger & pain. my body rotates like a disc surrendered sound of music. tip toed stigma, a struggle each day insects sound screeches, this wooden brain, or an empty space of lovemaking. call it anything. say it names, zig-zag platonic voids plastic belly button games. sick voice of head. call it anything. a flower holds the world, its a silhouette speaking of a grave. ____________________________________ ©Mvs
