So I like poetry,
I like the visual aspect of it,
If in turn I become short,
and allow the image to exhibit in vengence
my meanings. Forgive me.
After I have seen through the horror.
(Yes images like this make me feel borrowed, a vessel towards an unknown, not a study, just a rendition of what will not be in futures that I have allowed myself to become to be beloved to me when I know, intimately, this sphere of interest of mine is dying. Tell me again. I’ll tell you I love these pieces as artwork when the rest of the world sees them as possibilities of development)