This night writhing in the dark. Moons magnetic beams sucking down on my brain. Switch the light on, all becomes innocuous and homogenous.
Eyes replace brain.
Power and imagination usurped in favor of images pleasing to the eye. Cookies and posters. I miss already the werewolf power in the dark where lesbians walk on my lips and time is dead as a stinking carcass. Where wood glows and my internal organs float around the room in shiny jars sealed with rubberbands, crowned by brown lunch bags. Day I m in France now, living the life of a hermit.