we look nothing like our voices now

sequins used as bargaining chips on a planet the size of a melon

press here to add value

the hand that tries to hold itself becomes a fist

temporalities and a devotion to deep-gray icecream

a seductive snowing motion

late-night dancing in front of the tv screen

how to thrive in a world without objects

caressing fake ephemera

a pomegranate detonates

we fought like roses and chrysanthemums

here a rectangle sacrifices itself to refine a line

textual debauchery

I wish I was an orchestra

if trees had eyes imagine the tantrums!