𝓐 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓞𝓯 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓼: for when you go to sleep

April 23, 2022

a madman on the piano, a rusty wrench propping open a door, a moldy peach, a dog shaking muddy water off his coat, a single strand of hair on a pillowcase, love, infantile rage, a widow’s vanity, clerical pornography, the diamond of a soprano forgotten in a dusty apartment, a sobbing accountant, an ill-fitting gold watch on a thin wrist, one abandoned shoe never worn, listening to gregorian chants on the subway, boy who is a metalization of the human body and girl who is a flowering meadow with the fiery orchids of machine guns, walking in the rain with your lucky umbrella, the word “lost” spray painted on a dumpster, a kiss where the eyelashes touch a palpitating eyelid, guy at the gas station who looks just like vincent gallo, a folded printout of madonna and child in a jean pocket, walking home in the dark alone and then you remember, a single teardrop in your wine-glass, a kitten playing with a roll of galvanized steel, the taste of artificially flavoured strawberry lip balm, playing footsie with a stranger on the train, a medicine bottle in the bathroom cabinet with the label scratched off, feeling the pain of everyone and then feeling nothing, an albino great dane named Danté, blood that tastes like sweet vermouth, cotton candy vape clouds, an hour long loop of gulping sounds, walking through the mud with white socks on, long messy hair that gets caught on a tree branch, a bed of glass in a limestone grotto, a robot with a brain-shaped computer lodged in its cranial cavity, a broken bird lost in the snow, a dress made of padlocks, two doors: one says fate and the other says luck, a drink that is equal parts isopropyl alcohol and raw honey, crows cackling from the stadium balcony, spiritual murder.