Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Blurry

All of my edges blur. Goosebumps traced in bleeding watercolor. Deep, new colors, yet to be named and so hard to identify. How did outerspace make it into my earthling flesh?

"Because, my dear, an alien experience has touched you."

It makes no sense. Pure nonsense. A moth throws itself upon the mirror. If moths have hope, that one must be in panic.






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