Subject
Damián Antón-Ojeda
I can't think about a delicate
Subject without the links in my head dissolving
Crying, breathing patterns, breathing like
It hurts so much to think
Watching a figment of your body
Pulsing and breathing
I want to be...
The entire cycle of your pulse patterns
Every fire you touch with your hands
Every thought, every ecstasy
Every one of your tears, self patterns, burning, burning, burning...
Burning subject
As delicate as, as the whimper leaving your voice
As delicate as your skin
I can't think, I can't think unless it's me