A porn starring butterflies

In the noise a quiet makes,
My violence was kind.
These eyes traveling light-speed for days,
A millennium in a blink and you gone again,

like fragile algorithms breaking at the want of heartaches,
send this mail to my death.


In the crevices the hole fits,
I swallowed your name.
This black-hole is a machine with no switch,
This body was a null wood door way, a void,
Fireflies homely in my chest where they’ve let light out.
Yet you crept in. Easy. Easy. Breath.


Punctuated mornings undo anything.
You tied my gaze in a knot.
And I feel unforgiving. This thing was fire once!
This thing was light. I feel forgiving.
So when the future is over
where will we go?


Ghosts don’t bring shoes to walk,
A funeral refluxed thermos.
Don’t drink the ghosts cold. They burn.
When’s the calm of freedom, old friend?
So when the future is over
where will we go?

From here down up

Tell me when you feel like falling!
Tell me when you feel like alive is!
Tell me when you going.
So I stopping.
Tell me where the future is.
Tell me when we passed it.
I hearing if you saying. Tell me a something.

We was always old.
Mold eaters with green souls,
writing wishes on strings so nobody could read it.
We don't wear seat-belts riding rocket thinking.
When the future is over,
I'll go with you.

Skin thing

Skin thing

I am this laboratory,
here with rum bottles and nicotine spoons,
Always mixing a conspiracy,
Some man ways or wits and melanin particles,
I'm building this skin for me.

This skin thing ain't easy!
It hums. like shrewd percussive.
Some kind of new music - and you ain't easy
It not like hers. Or his. Or theirs. You bawl ' Oh God Oh! And I chastise it!

I disown. Don't ask me how or when or why.
My skin malfunctions and I love it.

I rent it. Its use is no good.
It's fee is too wide. All this data overloads the spirit sometimes.
We're just the same and nothing more.
Excuse this skin's luminous habits.
Nobody gave me a manual when I got it.

I feeding it all the affection I could afford.
And I never ask you once to partake in this -
In my experiments. In my building. This black is private.
I building this skin for me.

I never mean when it offends you,
That I turn on my skin when I ready,
and let the wool grow woolly woolly

It blacking how it want and I never sorry for it.

All the time
I building this thing for me.