Tuesday 12 April 2011

Black Ice

A reflection within a reflection.
Turning round and around trying to keep up. Little tiny differences spark up to startle for minuscule instants. Negligible. A palindrome ecstasy, reflecting on skin and inside the oesophagus. Locating itself elegantly like a long fingered villain. Establishing itself with the loud presence and stubbornness of a stroppy only child five-year-old.


Not to say that's a bad or a good. My judgement double-blind and out of reach to me- on top of the fridge with the forbiddens.

The wave of delayed and deserving reward tantalises. The eagerness merges with self-denial and Discipline. Order, control, a familiar magnet to this sack of weights.

Palindrome and oscillation.

I am blatantly in love with this neverending perfect match for my funny cyclical puns. Meta-linguistics and containing myself within myself.

Stereo-typical.