plume now scratches the screen at

{Friday, September 10, 2004}

the door of my hand opens onto the courtyard of your dream. i have no eyes. a blue electric snake signals the edge of this universe. i kiss the yellow flower's long-necked cup, to the black grain, to the veins of petals curved as the jelly fish before its next jolt. lips are the main organ of perception. salt accumulates meticulously as an offering. the capillaries of my sealed eyelids propell the dream to its origin.

plumed @ 10:21 PM | 0 comments



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est. feb. 5, 2004 A.D.

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