In your arms lie a photographic darkroom where we tape half of two pingpong balls onto our eyes and have violent hallucinations about ghouls and souls.
Above your eyes lie the lashes which caused the willy hurricanes when you bat them.
In your eyes lay the comfort of the feeling that seeped through me when staring into the shadows of the alarm clock on the left of my bedside table.
Above your lips,between the gap of your nose and teeth lay a surface area of bed of nails that will never deflate me.
In your touch lays the frightful static shock a north korean must have felt when touching an electric fence.Bless the koreans if this is what electricity feels like.
On my shoulder laid two boulders like the angkor wat,but,not really.Because theyre being lifted off gently,like smoke burning from the incense that atheists dont pray with.
On your shoulder laid the runway of jfk airport,stretching a few kilometres wide.
In your solar plexus,lays the centre of the mind of god,a god i dont believe in.
In your medulla oblongata,lies a heart which i dont think with anymore.
On the back of your hands lay scars you acquire from tranporting to the 1930s amd fighting the fuhrer,something id try to stop if i had a time machine.
And in my eyes,lie a midnight sun in the summer of norway,for how could i possibly associate you with darkness?


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