Did you feel it? Just then. We sat up straight and faced the sun. One minute later and we’re already leaning back in our gravity chair. Today tonight there was balance: dark and light. Tomorrow we begin accumulating minutes of dark, minutes like black commas erased from a worn-out page.
Owl found this. It feels like dark minutes, in the months ahead, accumulating:
The near future I commit to crow. I will scrapbook a phenomenology of crow morphology.
I’m also working on a piece of fan-fiction, a fiction by which I fan my fire for my favorite movie.
May your mind be electrified. May many small lights turn on.
- phoenix is a one-note bird.
- that note is on fire.
- bedside candle.
- no paper no pen.
- can’t write down dreams.
- owl listens, omni-ambient headphones around omni-acoustical eyes.
- odalisque your pillow is on fire. lie down. sleep.
tap tap, who will be beautiful, flesh sockets packed with black?
so beautiful, gnarled stick
the gods prize whose skin whose eye?
you’ll find time harsh because-of beauty
youth pulped, cored.
want seeds. want soil.
[upper aside]: cracks melt smooth like wax
[lower aside]: blush flame, so beautiful. balance ruin.
The phoenix burns billet-doux on my pillow. Read the last one here.