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Thursday, 23 March 2023

grammatical anomalies

The horizon is dented in any direction,
sarcasm is blue,
hopefulness didn't mate colours,
soft concrete leads people's steps,
our mouths are little boats on the Articulation Sea,
no storms or unnecessary waves,
palms watching the seabed,
listening to something from their echoes.
the outside and others aren't a hell;
is there a simple dichotomy of good and evil?
That would be too easy.
The presence, that ridiculous walnut,
sails across the water straightforwardly,
simple as those greedy eyes at that opposite face.
Moments for the bin.
Even perceptions be thrown away
my words are an altar of averageness
I am that green alien among geniuses
smile perch, swim a bit left, turn right, and next smile
they, around me, never missed out on their importance
look at that medusa how charmingly levitate
it is a parasitic boolean algebra
Or it's a quantised clone
If that could exist
More archaic pastorales?
Nothing like that.
Less deviled idols?
"supernatural" is the most stupid term?
Or the "soul"?
the list is like an anaconda
Are these the best ingredients for making brownies?
Arrays of "and"s and "or"s are
hidden strings of deceptions
is something always behind of behind of behind?
smaller and smaller
It is usually sarcastic.
This is the or.
Or is it a remaining bulb of my willingness?
I have no anything like this.
The love and hate of silence is
an ambivalent imaginary island.
Little curved bank around the oval gap of wishes.
From these points to your hip.
I want to sleep in it now
but the distance is a fluid
it measures our connection
it can't be quantified by measurement
so we eroded
Blinked lights,
solid purposes.
Nothing gone.
We just want them to disappear.
erasing myself is too dramatic
rather I close the entrances
Hard to admit my attraction to loneliness
It makes me feel the judgement of me
It should go. I wish you the best.
luck is covered by the frightening realisation
with bolded frozen skin
Do you see the fool around you?
it is that secret creature who lives in your tear duct
you clog it now
We sit at the table,
and your haunches are linked to our shadows
People's noises buzz,
the background of useless chats.
Choir for fascinated grimaces;
it wants wasps around them.
Boiled rages.
Do I need to lose them?
Assumption song.
Each moment of now is purple, supposed.
Content of litter.
Howls play with lamps;
they are for motoric noises.
Nonetheless, pragmatism wants to eat them.
Open them from their protected bubble
Talking about others?
please, stop it
as per usual, a smile follows this
when I asked for something
I'm not sure why

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