Friday, 26 August 2016

Mono-print


When she looked up the meaning of her name it said gift of god and if I ever did that I forget what I mean though at eighteen I thought four letters ended too soon I've always wanted a tail and that term realism was irrelevant even more when the dirty by design rag yellow T-shirt with oriental characters I had no idea what they meant was the thing I felt most myself in mixed over English words which I think was a story about love in the annexe to the print room she told me yellow was the colour of suicide untrue there were mono-prints I made over and over but once on the silk screen no colour control and the lines slid from my hands now I know.
I am not a reproduction model.
A woman shape cut cardboard and teenage words like he didn't even know my name in the darkroom time exposure and red dyed negative scatter words on the radio an insect with fizz wings a blood feeder the house in her bedroom backs to my house the gardens earth touches earth on the news a woman suffocated her young in the house close and the end of earth touching earth I didn't know her the print permanent report cuts words insect noise dropped out and there's feeling hair like legs behind the bend of my knee diamond fishnet holes made a smooth entrance for bug needle ladder just the two of us I am drink and she stopped their breath to save them she said from our evil world mono-print on cotton I let this insect complete two wings six legs abdomen thorax drinking needle head blood vision hot from my flesh.
I am not a reproduction model.
And the swelling stuck deep I could twist with a mirror to see insect years drunk on my blood is the definition parasite at home her bedroom faced my bedroom mirror on the wall sees me and my yellow T-shirt face of someone mono-print and the hole in my skin anti-fainting the voice on the radio is the room and me and the voice and the insect.
I am not a reproduction model.
All of this earth touches earth flower press land in the dark suffocate then dark examines the hardness under my skin penetration in flight my blood insect lighter than words like death I didn't know her.
I am not a reproduction model.
Needle faces pin me I made mono-prints face out from the words suspended like wings from a voice on a radio scars go in time my yellow T-shirt a face words I don't know the gift of death my mirror earth touches earth mono-prints.
I am not a reproduction model.
My blood anti-fainting and swelling an insect lighter than dead words.


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