I am drained from stretching this rubber band way too much…
Distance between places and distance between memories always fascinates me,
and sometimes they coincide like storms and Star waves.
I am getting murdered here from this vibration of hard liquor…
Someone’s there getting impregnated with a future murderer at the same pulse,
and it’s a surreal crime happening all around us…
The probability of creation.
You have a rubber band and you are a rubber band…
Abundant and productive through seclusion.
Stretch it…be stretched,
Stretch it…be stretched…
Stretch it…be stretched.
Suffocation inside my walls now…
Smoke and a smell of rotten wrinkles,
this city is fragrant in the echoes of distant azans and dissolving kirtons…
BAM…
It’s up to me now which I will continue,
the elastic in my hand
or the elastic through my body.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Gianni Colombo.

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