failed every period did baroque badly afraid of blood dream was too lonely i chose keeping it together in these ikea white walls of my post war nordic silence but only desire is real i must find some kind of art form where i can call my tongue back from the underground there are multitudes there are multitudes in the doctor s office speculum pulls me open spacing my space accidental sci fi regulating my aperture vagine savant some people find it painful but all i feel is connected all i feel is connected there must be some kind of art form where i can call my blood there are multitudes there are multitudes there are multitudes don t be afraid it s only blood