In Every Death, A Busy World Comes

Writing About An Idea Frees Me Of It. Thinking About It Is A Circle Of Repetitions.

The Beginning, Middle, And End Are Parodied, Reversed, And Hidden By Modernism, But Not Abandoned.

Smooth White Skin Invites Something That Will Leave A Trace, A Kiss Or A Slap.

Sometimes The Given Seems Like Something Taken Away.

Shameless: Punish Me For My Desire If You Will. It Burns Still.