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2001-10-23 || 12:53 p.m. || all these words and then there will be voices || it's a funny kind of torture. forcing words letter by letter beneath skin. to burrow like insects. under fingernails, magnified and cloudy. the letters are typewritten and eventually begin to float along sleepy blue veins. there is a sentence running parallel to your artery, right there up your arm, threatening to seep into you, to collect in pools of white blood cells and oxygen, the letters syllables participles drifting around with bacterial determination to patiently make it to your brain, to your inner ear. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |