A Delicious Unison

i have become another layer of music dissolved in advertisements for thick, hirsute arms, uncertain eyes that could turn the world off at any moment, completely by will alone. pipes drawn, quickly filled with coarse desires, and puffed-up by the cellular scent of fish swimming in their own zeitgeist. the negative is usually sweat-stained at this hour, the reek of cocaine cut with antibiotic swivel unfurled near painful erections, a waiting crime novel gorging itself on neutrino slabs. addiction stares blankly into the pillow as a hundred to hijack the quotidian serpent with grotesquely coloured ribbons of dried flesh. tossed rice clogs every cybernetic note sold back to them with slashed veins, more a meandering tilt of sadness, as if seventy-five had agreed to add the original idea to my bridge of vowels and bruised psalms.

infinite aspirations no longer pose any threat to the sky above,

and time's sultry, dancing hips have cracked open my skull,

so it can now clap in delicious unison.