Wire Tap Therapy
Redacted, fleshed abstract into a green field—the blacked-out pell-mell space in which one is victim but decoding upward into a sublime (cloudless) tenderpink (raw meat), shown-for-the-first-time (hymen) imperative (you is the subject of any imperative sentence) to wield violence (swing bat). In all of the tapes, you mention “blue”
(what is that?)
choking you for years, the ochre blue, the veiny fatherly blue, beaten blue in the sedge. In this attached image, a fat infrastructure proctors your throat, unhelpful to the analyst. Listen to yourself. Are you even alive to this pain? All former orphans of collateral damage only point to exhausted landscapes not reported to the secret court, but know
IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN UNTIL IT DOES
