Chopsyns art place

A small dense weight in your stomach and the missing flesh collected in your gums inform the ache in your shoulders, clear gelatinous drool forms the chrysalis of the starving cradle

bulb worms in your pillow freak and smile, hesitant breath words leaking through your eyes into her bladder. steam from the chopped roots billow out from her ears and your gut salivates its grin signs popping into apples. she found you awake on a log with your ureal eyes sewn wide open.

Summer screams static down your leg, fuzz expresses her toothy grin, cigarettes from Mississippi midnight runs until her stomach blooms dancing suns and swollen trickling pervert ecstatic stars

Oakfish eggs populate the dead air in your throat, oily swallow spit you can feel your lungs in her eyes. Chest burns and brain matter degrading, your weak grasp on life has lost its humiliating will

Popped in two, the green brass latch in your spine spins open expressing the ungulated bead of grinning shame thats burned and taken residence in your ballerina makeup case frame. Pinned to the small smudged mirror your lungs still rituallly move air in and out to nowheres clotted beating heart.

Noise-03

Noise-03

Noise-02

Noise.

circle widens on your breast, a silent push between your liver and heart filters a distilled lack of belief, bitter and saccharine your nerves filter out black coffee and dream concrete.

The blood of stars dillienate between your lungs, three starving baskets bite and pull at your lying tongue; peck at the bashful eye with all the memories of your mother when she was ignorant and young.

The blood of stars dillienate between your lungs, three starving baskets bite and pull at your lying tongue; peck at the bashful eye with all the memories of your mother when she was ignorant and young.

Syrup runs down your pants leg, blunt teeth bruise the topography of sin running out of breath down aching asphalt near the lobe of your ear.

I blink and the floor creaks, drifting through your hall I kissed the phantasm we used to ride on Wednesdays, encasing blood from our gums we made rich off carteroid rubies and calcified palpitations.

Hellen's tyrptich crucifix

Your last thought smeared across her leaking grinning beam, warm and trickling down the blushing welted flesh and nauseous silky lavender dream. there is no falsity hidden in her weeping unending scream.

The lost between the islands.