no songs. no perhaps.
Sep. 18th, 2001 12:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aslantno dances. no visions of that.
fucking warnings. "to reduce risk of serious injury to hands, wrists." meaning the temporality will get to you. meaning the words tell you everything you need to know. i'm temporary. i could have sworn i said something about this. take a number, take a hint, take a leave of absence. take a temporary stay of execution. these aren't the words, though: the words are these: color me done.
meaning i'm not in love. i'm out of love. it was a brief if lovely stay. i checked out. i left a note for the maid. i told her, lady be good. i told her don't wash those windows: watch those windows. they lie.
going to be ill all over the keyboard. and its sodden warnings.
turning on the video machines. my halting image on the screen broadcast to california as i fix the volume. brian on the conference call. walks through hurried muttering to himself, "need to call england..." so i erase myself away from the screen where i may be seen there, in that land, those rooms and words and voices. but behind that door. i can hear them.
ridicule, ridicule. i can't give in to speaking.
fucking warnings. "to reduce risk of serious injury to hands, wrists." meaning the temporality will get to you. meaning the words tell you everything you need to know. i'm temporary. i could have sworn i said something about this. take a number, take a hint, take a leave of absence. take a temporary stay of execution. these aren't the words, though: the words are these: color me done.
meaning i'm not in love. i'm out of love. it was a brief if lovely stay. i checked out. i left a note for the maid. i told her, lady be good. i told her don't wash those windows: watch those windows. they lie.
going to be ill all over the keyboard. and its sodden warnings.
turning on the video machines. my halting image on the screen broadcast to california as i fix the volume. brian on the conference call. walks through hurried muttering to himself, "need to call england..." so i erase myself away from the screen where i may be seen there, in that land, those rooms and words and voices. but behind that door. i can hear them.
ridicule, ridicule. i can't give in to speaking.
