The coruscating skins of skins often produce flames, flames of scars, memories,
A segment encrypted and deformed like petroleum jelly
Crisp, papercuts and unsaid gaze.
The cerulean orchid thumps against my white chin
knocking mysteries, opening perforated lies of life
Beneath the vapid thunders and above the summery pavements,
I listen to the jokes of past,
A facet of formations of conundrums and facts.
Rub, squeeze, swallow
Colour my collarbone with your hallucinations,
I am a crime in this heinous canvas of parasites,
I thrive and gulp
like a swollen raisin, I expect and expect.
After the process, I shatter like a needle pin
piercing Osmosis and perching
my Vintage scars.