literature

Crystalline

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Literature Text

From the neck spring I drain what will become the glassed jewels I shall drink from, swallow, have fill me after admiring, encasing the colourless blood from the spout behind something far more crystalline, solid, like water still flowing freely inside ice. And no matter what it has no beauty, no taste to me, when sucked from the bottleneck breast or the cracks of nature that to me is truly only its purest and at its truest state…to sate me…
                II
I enter the room next to me and make some manner of comment of how bare the greens and the wood doth seem make random un-associated comments as answers to what others say such as “You don’t have to look the part to play it” and “Join the trots as if they were dotted lines so to speak”. And “should they run dry of oils, rob shall they the Arabs of the far away”.  Flowed out phrases, played out like colourless blood running…
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