Loose skin looking for drawstrings in the moment. Zippers in the smile that means nothing. Escaped prisoners in a long occupation of liars and sex. Found attics in a failing war. Salvation comes not upon being rescued, but accepting that you won't be. Some soldiers have guns, others only experience.
Browsing fault lines. Catalogs of men erupting. Chemical fires doused in blood. Until everything has fallen. And the pantyhose are all that's left of her flesh. Friendly enemies turn her surrender into triumph. She waits for the burns to heal. A puzzle of skin now, she waits to be solved.
Hooks in the meat as the knives carve the cow. All eyes discarded. Chains pull the the skin from the carcass. People dissect the shit from the meat.
Bad air fresheners and thin masks separate us from the things inside us. So many dead animals try to teach us to live.
Monday
2/11/2008 11:47:00 PM
Sad Labels:
acceptance
,
retrospect
,
sex
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