(...not that I would know any better than you...opinions are like assholes...
...everybody's got one...here's mine)
Morbidity requires a mind,
someone to mind
or not mind
what is said
or not said.
There is no thing
to be
morbid about
without
an actor to do
the being of morbidity,
a mind that can’t bring
itself to say
“I don’t mind if I don’t,”
a mind that insists
that
there always be
some
one
to mind.
I mean,
if I were to say
“Love eats truth for breakfast
and shits
the blood of the beloved
sweetly into your mouth,”
…in the forest…
…with no one around…
…to…
…hear…
…it…,
would you
—could you, really—
mind,
when love
and truth
are the only realities
and only
the trees
are listening?
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That was interesting.. no I’m being serious, I do like the way you played with the structure (you know the inverted parts and the full-stops) sometimes I have to really make myself clear or people just say wtf?
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