Tales of a burrough

The flames of the blue bar burned the night, taxy-radioctivity to all those inside. A famous adolescent, thrown away violently, stumbles accross and slams whoever he passes. Projections, rice scrubs face wash ads, cover the scene. A lonely angel sits across, in a aura of Galatea. Who will unfuck me, dust turns to shreds.

Spikes and belts around her chine, who is craving you, sinking teeth resort sinking teeth a new garden, new steel, and numbers and civilizations and the comfort I had when I reached you. Who does she want, unknowingly, deep stares, mumbles, screams, another fight, security, authority, rhizomatic action, authocratic action, who really controls this, but our passing looks, the mistakeable chance for romance. Who brought who here, tonight, who got you on my sight, why the uncaring pats on my spine.

See you, need you, relapse, tonight, tomorrow, another sight, headache, hot shower, need you, new person, cycle. Routine, who are you, do I know you, oh from last week, crossed, Cross, Ikon, gaze. Soak your eyes into mine like needles.

Take a bath of incense and myrrh. Olibanum.