Resurrection Paradigm by Soft Fantasy

“Holes that are also BLADES cyclically slicing. The fetishization of significance. Rubbing your face in it over and over. The smell joy. The many eyes of uselessness; a slowness that tears off your sinking skin. Rubbing the holes in the same place until you have to buy new ones. Biting at GOD in the sunlight. The INVERSE, rolling around in the inverse. You are my SUN and surrogate. Leaving me licking that stone clean and rolling around folding into the pain of it all. A pale accomplishment shining in the valley, too blended out to sense. The sparkles exploding in the veins. Trade one plate for the next until there are 33 layers to this cake made of dying animals and the labor sucking goo. Funnel ^^^ of DISORDER forever.”

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