it is 4:30am. the clounds outside the miniblinds are backlit by dawn. light pushes through the haze of city dust - skin blown from vents, ash from abandoned cigarettes, the motes of long-dead autumn leaves. they hang in the air, pinned by photons, an insect box. the biomass is sleeping heavy. i hear a pulse.
i am glowing in cathode rays. my eyes are radiation dry.
i am listening to radiohead:
Red wine and sleeping pills
Help me get back to your arms
Cheap sex and sad films
Help me get back where I belong
I think you're crazy, maybe
I think you're crazy, maybe
Stop sending letters
Letters always get burned
It's not like the movies
They fed us on little white lies
I think you're crazy, maybe
I think you're crazy, maybe
I will see you in the next life
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
dia:
O's onto something here. Your text makes me wet.
tryptamine_____:
new idea for erotica to write: me, joyrider and thom yorke having a threesome. 