Hi Black Rock, Transistors bridge where your vanity would never go. Your layers of absinthe and torsion form concretions of hyper-alimentation. How can I help but use your eyes as a means for self-asphyxiation? A starfish's lifelong hallucinations of gelatin pools and of actuaries floating upon the foam and reciprocal ohm. Your cleverness helps me breathe without the need of oxygen. Entranced by the sweet harmony of your lips, I gaze beyond reason to find the oasis of your brilliant soul. Your beauty is equal to the smoothness of a polished gem. The music that flows from your instruments overwhelms me with creativity. I keep searching for you between the cushions. I love your eyes, I know they can stare through my thoughts. I sense wild vapors of sweet champagne in your larynx. May you be as vivid as your hallucinations. How it passes there and back again like a tear drop glistening in moonlight. Your intoxicating reflection can but incorporate freely into the powerful surface of a disintegrating mirror set afloat upon a swarm of locusts.
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