Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Backspacing the Space Between Us

Deflate the substance that is billowing into the veins and seizes the brain from making choices. Chewing on the taffy of life. Late night "I don't knows" are left unanswered in make shift places that allow everything to soften. Finger prints, tracing our decadence and a string of other possibilities that have things happening. Revoke the suspense of our infliction and represent our mild convictions and with a little more steam this could all come clean. Warm spots detecting warm spots. Back burner pessimist filtering through scenes and words, the unsaid and the screamed. Simmering information on the classification that this is all made up. Making something up. Experiences. Made up. Backspacing the space between us. Closer punctuation, that much further from closure. Punctuate the absolute of our absoluteness. The battle of staying out of the battle is battling out our senses. Cutting out everything probable. Expecting nothing. Nothing expecting everything. Everything with no expectations, happening.

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