orgami's Diaryland Diary

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sometimes it takes em'

BALLZ

the paper is pressed on your
skin empty as a summer morning
soft as dew

the rock anthem gleams in
sharp octavius clatter
and then the hum of switchplate
stitching stutter
the glorious gristle of the
magneto

you barely wince when the gun
goes from ink to sketched font
the fingers sweep the nose of
it along the curve the gentle
slope of shape

the shop is full of relics new
and old Visual carnival of souls
I love the autoclave and chair
more then the artwork
and Im an artist

when its over they wipe you down
and apply the healing cream
and bandage wrapper

you pull it off as soon as you
are in again and look admire it
your soft eyes gleaming like a
cat with a new purpose

fifty bucks for BALLZ

10:22 p.m. - 2010-07-31

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