12/20/07

When Chaos opened its oily palm...

I want to step into this phantom life. At this moment. See how it unfolds. Watch the intricacies of time collapse. I live on one street. My mother, she lives on another. Sometimes she'll come by, tap on my window. She reminds me that my head emerged from her vagina over a period of a few nights during which she learned how ecstasy can be distilled from patience and how pain can be reaped from creation. I pushed a cup of Earl Grey across the table, sighed in my chair, said to her one day I'll speak one language, and you'll speak another and such lessons will be repeated ad infinitum.  

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