LavĂnia
plalace
- Feb 19, 2024
- 167
I see the fluttering, bright, multicolored voice of someone repeating;
I hear the image of mouths moving, wanting to be seen and torn;
I clench my teeth, biting the edges of the sky to climb the clouds, touching my hands;
I break my fingers, one by one, to stretch my back and feel water in my hair;
I kiss the mist, greeting my worms and longings in a wave of relaxing pleasure: boredom.
Dying is convenient
I hear the image of mouths moving, wanting to be seen and torn;
I clench my teeth, biting the edges of the sky to climb the clouds, touching my hands;
I break my fingers, one by one, to stretch my back and feel water in my hair;
I kiss the mist, greeting my worms and longings in a wave of relaxing pleasure: boredom.
Dying is convenient
