Sea Glass 9/30


An electronica beat,
gasps and the perpetuum

A broad electric shock
runs through the depths

Our rhythm matches the hills
the landscape erupts in me



An eruption comes with a mountainous central plane, often on a shoreline divided from the pulsing clouds by a vibrant sky. I think of this division being that between two bodies, or between a quotidien ambience and that of sex in its vibrancy, or from that position, passing judgement on the outside.

Here, the waves of the sea, the fleeing boats, have become a sea of text, the web of the sea, or a keyboard. Nothing striated can escape the text. Nothing can escape the text.

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