What child is this? An even blend of light & darkness, an angel in love with devils; she who strives to resemble an incandescence intrinsic to soul binding, reality bending, stretching of the corporeal periphery-- LOVE; boiling from head to heart to blood, burning into the skin; out of the pores like smoke; the cerebral resurrection.
Collecting disiecti membra poetae (scattered limbs of poets), hanging each over agape mouths--nectar of imagination flowing ever sweet. Careful not to let it harden with plastics of aged illusion sticking inbetween teeth. Leave all gaps open & breathe.
We are most real when we are among the unreal. The myths. What colour is your God; how does it taste today?
Photos tagged ''personal'' are those of which I have taken.