Clarice walks above and below us. Lives in a dream, exiled from this plane by an unknown puppeteer. For her, great fears that would kill one of us, but high insights and ecstasies too. And now, she melts in silence. What did you see, Clarice? What did you see?
My body doesn’t understand my brain, or do I have this backward? Calcified circuits, perhaps. Worn out paths. Easy to go off the rails. When eating, I bite the inside of my lower lip, at least once a day. The cut can’t heal, and it swells a bit, offering a better target for next time. […]
Aremyfeetofftheground 