All of this roaring in your head, towards the light, towards the microphone, you are forged steel, clarity and purpose — Madrid, Bremen, Vienna, Cologne (where you were born) — you take a breath and taste rust, words coming apart, the scream.
This site does not allow itself to be embedded. You can still read it on the original site — the toolbar below keeps your place in the directory.
Work in progress

Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.