4/1/2023 0 Comments The pleasure of the lookAtticus Spicer (they/he)soft jaw, plum and gentle, empress, my coherence leaves and gaze follows behind, limp and ------ dragged by a voyeurist shame i know this, i've read this
-- there's a death every afternoon when i take my eyes off of your blur but i believe in the persistence of vision i pray that your grace let its light scorch me, in twenty four moments of seraphic, divine, rapture, per second – and the retinal burn will hit when i return my eyes to their sacred darkness when the credits roll – on this sadomasochistic art, an embodied performance of mine pure cinema of attractions fin
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Categories |