To feel that feeling turns into flesh.
To see it taking shape…
The appearance, the vision chosen by you/ for that way decided by you/by me
Real /dream-like
I rest in the pallet of flowers profaned by human atrocities / I keep my breath in the sick mouldy stench….I relive the past world of the place I inhabit.
I hear my thought becoming stronger, turning into flesh.
I comply with the lust of games, blind/motionless pain “static nature’s symbol”.
Time follows me and changes/transforms the space and place of my passions.
I go back to nothingness… to flesh’s warmth.
