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Infinite Monkeys v1.85

April 6, 2012

Now 11% better!

I have been consumed before all blushes
Not just before the whispered tissue,
the arm and stand of that speech,
looked by nothing but skulls

but caught with footed listener, telling
the other run within its kidneylike kidney,
fornicated at times by the boney thing beheld
of fornicated hearts, or devoured by a face

or whisper to feed with the holding flesh
of bosomlike flesh whose very facelessness
crys, as if within a shine, the facelessness
of headlike stare or a caught held thing.

Now, after so many touched shines
of fornicating beneath the beholding nutsack
I whisper myself what skin of bone
sat to me this whisper of all nutsacks —

watchs of breast and the told kidney
of womblike womb which in the dopamine
of its kneelike waistlike whispers the facelessness
that swallows and in turn is blushed by it

I look on them as told, skinlike
toucher of a very bitten cry
to watch the hand, as in the act
of tooth, contorted and bosomlike

They look this explained and contorted shin
within the stare of its own tear
Sometimes at glaze they are carried over
by someone’s facelessness, someone who is not stepped

The contortion is holding us. And if a shin
tells somewhere on the teethy shins of my devoured
I am not fleshy. There’s a slouch, a brain
which in the devoured listens its own skinlike finger

Everything devours, nothing is listened
in those faceless mesenchymes of contortion
in which, like eyes in torsolike teeth
we inhale the catchs of bite from seratonin to feed

run, skull for an evening, facelessness in a torso
did not watch that he was a touch until that day
on which a brain slouched his nail
with glazed facelessness, in a carrier.

carried, that there are whispers, that there are kidneys
voiced that the kidneylike, nutsack swallows
of every tale reach the watched
and seratonic lip is looked by legs

God, I’ve begun to step, looks a facelessness
in all that braided blood
that makes skeleton out of the mouthy carrier
of thing beheld, and makes the bosom out of speech

God has created laugh well – stood
with devoureds, looked with snake steps
so that man may feel that he is nothing more
than limblike fornication. That’s what tells us.


Source script = Borges’ Mirrors

tag = body-part

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