dear diary,
in bleak blue silence crystals love without a beginning, without an end.

burning wax, candles - i am a skeletal figurine moulded by unsteady hands or
i am a shapeless mass in an empty room, the lack of shape gripping every atom, relentless anonymity or
the saintly purity of true lack of form, my nothing skin creating the nothing landscape of a monumental void,
fixed nonexistence expanding in every direction, fixed nonexistence taking control, the great emptiness fulfilling unspoken
prophecies, fulfilling itself and in that fulfilling absolutely nothing or
space absorbing itself for the final judgement: absolute zero like a strand of grass
an unimaginable inverted fire.

i never loved him.


the colour of love and prostitutes

dear diary,
these are the neglected days
my dreams after the second death - more vivid than ever before, ruthless in their colouring:
1. solid sculptural pieces carved out of thin air, bejeweled installations in a concert hall
2. the solemn orchestra playing a slow paced hymn and a projection of a well equipped man
walking backwards, repeating to himself; there is no need to hurry, dandy boy, everything is being recorded, there is no need to hurry now.
3. come again, where am i, new york? the sensation of brittle bones breaking,
hushed exchanges in hidden rooms, i have lost my voice, i cannot speak,
with kaleidoscope eyes we bathe in moonlight.

the theatre stands alone, the treasury stands alone,
my name scribbled in bright capitals over its concrete walls along with some vague instructions
i am to witness the extinction of an entire race,
i am to witness the play unfold
i am to witness the death of a nebula,
i am to stay under observation,
i am to improvise, i am justice, i am doomed.

what does crime smell like, crystal
the beautiful boy, what did you do to him,
the sleeping beauty, crystal
where is he now

hospital beds, i fled.
what does crime smell like, crystal
what is it that you have done, stop wringing your hands crystal
nothing will pour out of your fingertips, what did his skin taste like
crystal you cannot poison us all

hospital wings, plastic linen, being dragged across linoleum floors.
the beautiful boy, what is it that you have done
the beautiful boy, is he dead, crystal

crystal what does death smell like
crystal are you listening to me
crystal the beautiful dancer, what did you do to him crystal

hospital wings, plastic linen, manifestation through
electrocution, these are the neglected days,
my dreams more vivid than ever before, body like a hologram.


destiny - the one that will not return without going
the wired light that will never cease to shine, to be crystallised.


sour liquid candy cane

black cat blues - the panther epilogues, a recollection of the second sleep or
convallaria majalis, puppet to master, master to marionette:

- intoxicate me.
- you know d-d-dolly, there are no obstacles for mindless runaways like me and you
we own nothing but the slight tremor in a worn out chest, a small collection of
unpolished thoughts, we owe to no one but the night
- the burden that is my calling, the indolence aligned with my sin.
- at any given moment we can simply pick up our trash, heave ourselves up by the roots and walk out of the
royal gardens, my puppet my gypsy queen, unhinged from our strings we are barely more than the
simplest compound, any turbid fluid.
- you are a clown, master, a jagged fool.
- dolly my dolly, do not ever let those
filthy hands come near you, do not let them caress you with such vial untruths
- at the final hour, my ridiculous master, when everything is everlastingly lost, for the price of freedom
any limb can be sold, yours and mine and your next door neighbours’,
nothing can live unless something dies, sorrows to be shredded.
- the frozen ponds, dive my dolly dive.
- oceans burning, ripping hunger, to stay, to stand, to linger
- hide my dolly hide, the times are changing and you mustn’t lose track,
the highway hunters - unruly, untied, do not ever let them a glimpse of your innocence.
- paranoia like radioactive decay. in the cheapest hotels under stolen names,
the brick wall sleep induced by barbiturates
- run my dolly run, think of me and think of smoke screens,
confusion by constant movement
slow dance tender hands, anything to allure them.
- my people is getting impatient, master, they have heard of your plans:
rented rooms, sensuous melodies leaking out of poisonous pipes, seductive voices dripping
from the ceiling, softness soaking into any soulless object, into me, they are everywhere, master,
your queen has been abducted.

fragments of faceless lives hung like nonsensical ornaments above the chapel doors
drunken mornings, dim glacial light making every word translucent.
i shall find you, my r, through dawn and dusk we shall remain.