Object Prose Poem

You bleed my mind. Your trails leave me a frozen thought, offers it up for inspection. You are me.

                                            ~

                    See emotion… See colors… See inside… See it there

                                               ~

    where none truly are

This eye in your mind comes calling. It needs a fill. Give me words. From nothing to existence. Impregnate the thin ground up tree; Slices of thin, bleached, ground up trees. I wonder if it sees itself as the bitch out of this relationship. No art but from without. No worth unless you’ve been deflowered. Unless you are folded… Oh boy, folded


    Are you the Nemesis? All sticky and white or pink and fleshy; Who are you to eclipse me? Vanquish, annihilate to take be taken completely out of existence. As you were twinkle toes. Are the fractals and pixels the true nemesis? Luddites would argue no. There is no competition.


Whether it be from the feather end, or a riled porcupine. Your tip separates. From apes to neighbors, you are contentious, but aren’t we all. Abstraction exists because of you. The moment that you scratched the first surface,
nothing would ever
                                                        be

                                                           ~

                                                            the

                                                                ~same.