we will go get senseless

dumb, blind, defenseless

there is beauty in vulnerability

in death there is an intimacy

we plan robots and talk about

the smell of books and how i shout

or mumble; there is no in between

he talks in dreams, instead of saying

what he really means

incestuous orgies, hell's angels

hot dogs, followers, midgets and

children riding a rollercoaster

through a restaurant

the dots and lines

that haunted him for ten years

and he wonders if they'd still

bring him to tears

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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