R E/P M
Skydiving naked in a mind field
ing moonbeams like bullets (matrix
style – all slow-motion black
patent sexy), I dial escape.
Screaming
winds respond with a synthesized version
of my own voice that could never be
described as an echo.
Thank god
for rip cords. Way to overstate
the obvious. I
swallow
our mutual fear, continue
to free
fall
into this quasi-dark
ness that doesn’t feel anything
like sleep.
(http://www.blazevox.org/index.php/journal/)
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