STRA(y)NGE FLESH

I turn, I fold. I crouch down, drop onto my knees and

crawl. I lay on my back and I swim through the

concrete. I blink, and the sky begins to bleed. I am

lathered in time. Displaced, unplaced and in an ongoing

state of non-space. Between them. I drop onto my

stomach and I float across the candyfloss of hopes and

dreams. In my slick time, I slip between... and... (insert

silence) and... (insert silence 10 seconds) and...

(whisper: oh I get it) and eventually I am spread wide

across. You try to hold and it does not. It cannot be held

and so like the candyfloss in your wet hands, it

dissolves before your eyes and finds a new form.