Opposing Conversations If I stare at the wave, I turn-on the irony of oceanic depths. If I stop the air with my dead scaly skin, I break-into desolate barren places.
Wise Audiences When you're inside me i don't know if you laugh or if you come from boredom. if your tongue freshens or arrives from fever. i don’t know if what you search for on weekends exists inside me. i know life stretched out beneath your abs is the same as snakes and concurrent solitudes that correspond to the twinkling light where i can see you.