Thursday, 24 May 2012


You open up to no one.

You make love to no one.

Sex becomes a functional word rather than something else, it’s making love to no one, it just slides out of you into the depth of no one as the stage and the faces mix, sometimes I see the outline, but I prefer not to

It’s like performing to death, birth and infinity

You don’t know what it is

It’s nothing

But it sees you

And you stroke your neck

No one strokes your neck

And your voice is there

And it doesn’t crack it fades into the dark

And you watch it slip

With age

To no one


Ache Head

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