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On Being Named in Nameless Places

1910
Thu, 9 Apr 2009 at 01:48pm

untitled

I'm pushing through facelessness. Exiting. Striding by. Hitting past. Get away. Outside, wavelengths disappear and blues shift between Us. Shadows embrace. Zeno impresses that It's not what it looks like. Our Eyes touch.         Who are you? Our strides cross and slice. Ulterior suspicion descends.         Where are you going?
Juju
2009-04-11
You're beyond me. My head's still wrapping...
sold
2009-04-23
Zeno is a terrible thing