outwait outrun outwit





TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


03.11.01

See me chase the scarlet threads that trail the last three days quickly quickly, three days unraveling themselves into memory tipsy-tricky, corralled uncertainly by paper, ink, a photograph.

Is this light captured? or shadows, of past days mis/re/membering themselves under the weight of another dawn? Bone cracks and flesh crumbles and hair burns. Once-heavy eyelashes flutter hesitantly against a cheek's curve, a curve that has lost the softness of its skin, skin becoming only memory color-saturated, a preponderance--at once overwhelming and necessary--of essences essentially lost, now light that cracks and crumbles and burns when captured.






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