A swaying tounge licks loose lips with a protest on the edge of my words. I speak in parabols amidst the waves of fluorescent faces, undefining my phrases. Ticker tape, unreeling by lines out of my throat, distributes numbers to the attending reflection in my presence. Armor forged from furnaces and shovels, unprofitable battle hangs on the tip of a blunt diamond blade.
My contradictive bed of dripping paint burns the eyelids of volcanos blinking their cracks in my direction. My final exhalation of perfumes and newspaper headlines deafen my conscience lying upon a grain of sand. Side-ear recognition of a seperate room in my name crammed with flowers and gold, blacks my objective to differenciate the past