Exploring the epiphany

Crossing industries, towns full of stained crowds…

Eating and speaking like zombies.

Dogs in my soul and a summer afternoon in my tongue,

exhausted and tripped over a corpse mountain.

I need a room…as soon as possible,

I need drinks in my veins,

I need the inflammation of a woman’s hair.

We are all linear…I don’t complain this linearity, I don’t complain these finite disappearences,

but I need my containment.

I am running against the times of corrupted hallucinations.

I am and I will.

………………………………………………………………

Photograph: Google.

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