Distant Tension

The ground shakes a little, and foolishness and wisdom look the same, but that is not because they wear identical masks; it is because you wear the cloak of uncertainty – uncertainty of yourself. Marry your soul and body, and see that it is not whether you choose foolishness or wisdom that is the problem, but that you just need to take off that stupid cloak!

Parasite

Twiggy is your saviour. Your unearned, bony “beauty” is not loved elsewhere, not that you seem to know what love even is. That’s right; gorge on the First World; let the white male’s American English glisten as it dribbles down the sides of your smiling, goofy chin, and smear it like the shitty mud (from the sties of the sows whose pleading squeals of desperation you gladly drown out with Lana De Rivative) that it is over your A-cup breasts of censorship and your librarian's clitoris of privacy, before taking pride in polishing your parrot-coloured regurgitation so that it will look great in your ivory tower. Revel in the filthy pleasure and egotistical obesity that you deny that your meticulously ornamented depravity brings. Only keep and only output that which feeds your bad faith, and snip out all threats. You pose as a delicate parasol, but you’re just a voracious

Before the War

The two were one wiggly, angular marble sculpture that really was immersed in darkness but felt saturated with sunbeam kisses, quite sure that these precious days were numbered.

Health Bomber

Outwardly flowing from the blinding core of this music fountain, liquid crystal fills a growing, intangible sphere, immersing and saturating all the blossoms of form without exception, seeping more quickly into some and more slowly into others.

Incubation

It seeped from its cocoon and whispered inaudibly, exhaling itself into manifestation, like an olden-day wife leading a husband to think of her ideas himself.