[Written on 26/7/2016]
He perches on wraith-like tiptoe upon a lilac-clothed apex, engorged in lambent washes of a prodigal effect and breeding chroma-blades that gnaw contours loose and wedge bloated gaps into tautening, hissing junctures of ink.
And from these expunging agencies, a gingerly crowning relish blooms, slathering visions of lush vines and pastel flora across blood-scented corridors, in the chinks of paper bone and the jittery notches of a heaving heart. A blooming conquest tamed, quelled and freed from a silverwood sepulchre, spilled at no tyrant’s behest over a brittle, aching chassis of bio-signs that frolic in timed, nihilistic motion.
The ceaseless pulses of this unworldly incursion send tactile messengers afoot, a cavalry of beacons that plunge sensation into skin and draw secret banshees from their hiding places, screeching ripples and spewing throbs as nerves ascend in frantic benediction.
— Never has he felt more alive than this.