Friday, March 5, 2010

true tenderness.

it has to come off now. hands to your eyes, eyes on your hand dark black, a terrifying black. why doesn't it come off instantly? one swipe, but no. it takes three, four, five, six and some waning on the seventh. i think there's air trapped in the mucus. like a toad's eye, it's watching me. it blinks. and the left nostril keeps running as on-going as the faucet. they are racing.
there's no beauty without the wound. lucifer was the most beautiful of all the angels, that was his flaw//francis bacon.

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