this is ecstasy.
through the keyhole is a brand new day (that’s always been there), outside of this sterile, barren, boxed-in hospital room (where i reside), urban stars will shine, electric, as i'm enamored with the lights.
and i'm delirious when you infect me with the blare of a thousand digital suns, when you tune my heartbeats to the rhythm of your clock, when you exhale the smoke that pollutes my lungs, when you spin into my ears the euphoric, pornographic melody of both the music and the machine,
when you swallow me with seas of the faceless and render me safe as a cadavar in bloom.
your stimuli stem from the remains of tall trees, old gardens of factories, and the men, women and children snake through the underworld and above your urban jungle vertigo, hectic and proud, spray painting the giant screen with technicolored fantasies.
i'm fascinated, infatuated, obsessed, disoriented, liberated. pierce my pores, for the one millionth time, you build me up to the sky.
we’ll touch the sun and fly off this rock.
