Micromundo
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Hancocks Fabric Preferred Card
Your hand drawn transparencies in me as your lips disclose individual silence. Your tongue loose scribbles everywhere, with words than when they say, they feel. Your name is an echo that fills the rooms that the heart was desolate. Your eyes telling me that I know for some time. Your skin is the refuge, fear, cold. 're the flame that dazzles when everything is dark. We melted into the embrace of always, that in which the nose sank in the neck, and form a micro-world, for you and me.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
The Zero Family Season 4 Release
The penalty in the tackle
Here's wounds, cracks, not stopped bleeding, hurting, when we are covering them with patches, some so small and ephemeral that fail to meet them. Other large and more consistent, who was determined to uproot us, to bleed.
Everything wobbles around when thinking pendula not find where to stick and stay sharp. Feeling that everything is useless. That the struggle in the fight die and the mind submitted to the heart, suffocating, until it feels. 
Here the problems never end, but muted. To pretend no longer, but as we say nothing, because if we look, we calan bones to consume.
Here's wounds, cracks, not stopped bleeding, hurting, when we are covering them with patches, some so small and ephemeral that fail to meet them. Other large and more consistent, who was determined to uproot us, to bleed.
Everything wobbles around when thinking pendula not find where to stick and stay sharp. Feeling that everything is useless. That the struggle in the fight die and the mind submitted to the heart, suffocating, until it feels.
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