visions
guns blazing
minds racing
mythologies have made us wooden
we were high
we were lovers
now we are just
bodies lying on the floor
trying to remember our names
here:
we tasted the dirt
living where it lay
(other people) whispered, symptoms
eating-stomach aches
these hidden afflictions
we don't talk about
make my arms bend backwards
my mind shoots and shouts
my mind shoots and shouts
there:
last time we'd really been
talked through our teeth
i witnessed you obscene
plain sight, on fire in the streets
circulation is poor
as the beefy weekend protrudes
no one is a prisoner here
still waiting to occur,
as more than an after-thought
(personal admission of your obvious doubt)
to be free:
it's a hard suffering start
split, under-the-cover eyes
when sun's practiced position
mistakes this room for a shrine
created a great dioramic myth
neatly pressed domestic scene
an architect, cleaning behind the refridgerator
letting air out of tires with electric impulsivity
i'll eat the candy
i'll fill these lungs
blunt, complex periods of display
each relevant and impotent
let us stare a little longer
check our teeth in the mirror
your anticipated responses
cost all my history in self-control
encouraged to breath
my arms positioned, braced for uncertainty
All photo's by Francesca Woodman