May 2012
1 post
I cannot bear the state you’ve put me in: that ingrown coup d’état against my toes, the pain of thorns embittered in my nose, that angry rash enveloping my skin, the shock of Roger Federer first serves exploding on my face, that decadence of knuckles grinding me with violence, the voodoo acupuncture on my nerves.
I have to slip beneath my skin and take it off, to wash it...
