fated
in the middle of paused screen
a memory
melted indispensably
i
spectator in my skin
allowed to stay
for i’m empty
dispersed of hate
and wrath starved to a moan
whiteless
not invisible
repel inspectacle of water
a solution of taste and time
obsolete
amnesia.
it is the light
that breaks the wave
of perfection
fish swirling in
the premises
of air
adorable in coexistence
yet artificial.
the
wingless
lungless
fish.

“the grey scale makes painting vertical. Evidently we are dead.”

Barrett Watten