I pull at my hair and scream through the bare windows in this lonely desert land.
Draw hearts in the dust in the floor and remove splinters with my teeth.
My eyes are orbs of Obsidian and you can see the scars from the Meteorites.
Longing is older than Love – yet she Longs to be Loved.
I am nothing worth bothering with and rightly so.
I exist only for the sensation of Ideas and Physical Thoughts and Actions in Transit aching to come forth and exist in this world yet are breached in the birth canal.
I am the glass prism the light penetrates to make rainbows on bare walls.
I am a Vessel.
Come see my UFO.


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