Blog music poetry WRITING

when faces are blurred

when faces are blurred

when faces are blurred
then action too
is held by demur

enemy abstracts
rewrote my letters
erasing inevitable
coexistence

they held a
prison niche
or maybe
nietzsche prisoner

twisting
‘god is dead’
until he begged
for life

or release from
tradition
of lying at the
temple gates
in famine


thought
in a dream i sent him a photo and it was returned to me unread. the photo was blurred so i painted something in its place and sent it once more and once more it was returned to me unread, still blurred. it was a tell, not an ask. so i went to temple at sunset to pray, but i’m not orthodox or jewish so they didn’t let me in. instead i sat alone on ‘their’ steps and begged for my heart to be sewn shut, because it represented my mouth, which swallowed everything and still wanted more.

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