Η συγγενής αυτή μολυσμένη λάσπη είναι το μόνο συστατικό που περιέχει αυτό το σώμα πέρα από τα ιστικά παράγωγα.

Concrete in synovial bursae: newfound permanence
distance may vary time as well though
every question returns
nothing after the first answer.

Dieses Volk der Festigkeit; they put their hands in the resonators and their fingers drown in fecund sedimentary mud. The strings tremble and shake at their own beliefs. Heavy keys, nonchalant to touch, sign of blood in the abdomen. A lake of blood in the abdomen. The skin that maintains the wealth inside is coruscant, distended. It moves massively when pressed, it crawls when examined. Void filled with death and thick black vomit. Double the morphine, let them swing their bones deep in the pillows. If the pain insists, this therapy is cursed in its ways. The pain insists, some dared to give advice about controlling the gaping wounds of congenital defects. Blinded by complex ignorant fecund sedimentary mud. Keep them out of this hospital room. Dieses Volk der Festigkeit

sie gehen mit Beton zu Fuß

kein Wort keine Stimme sie sprechen nicht

dieses Meer aus Blut

zieht Unheil an uns.

This is not business

none of this is business

There is no method

to cure oneself

years might run I remain the same

the same treated customer.

Texts turn to monotone, yells turn their heads away. So stand up to greet another new hormonal salvation. Reflects, rambling, senseless movements senseless movements are the walks you took and they took you back to singularity from the alike states; and they've got their borders open and we cross the customs with our presents and pay a drop of blood without sugar starved to coma stares and twinkles make apathetic diseases responsive to whatever comes second there is no answer to what comes first every time definitive fact is not me, not you but the suffering self. Years might run and I'm past the parental beating, rude is under my tongue.

Late day

no one waits for any bus

how come? The sun

is sweet, the street quiet

and dry

I leave and I don't hear the door closing so the mirage of a standing fleshy feeling remains / pendant hands / it comes in gradient circular surfaces this

non numerical rope

the bridge shuts and collapses as the kingdom of the lamb

savory sparks running through the

neural wires

sinewaves so copious, they reach the small ears as well.

Dense time past noon

not a single electron going away

swales

striding swales

months steady

stable routes bite the knuckles of our / pendant hands / I plan my blessings in this uncountable exit this hanging we always glance at amidst its happening

our voices shed

casting castles on our corneas, love

raising the atmosphere over the cloudy minds,

deine
Immer.

Leerraum löscht

die lachende Anschläge

cresc.

decresc.

cresc.

decresc.

cresc.

decresc.

cresc.

decresc.

Leerraum verschlingt

das lachende Ende

spiel und sing

sei vertan

schlaf im

Leerraum

schön