aria

Saturday, September the 2nd, 2006

To hear Pedro tell it, I'm a beautiful beast, with a sleek sleek coat and beautiful feet.
Pedro is a liar at the best of times and in the present mayhem, put it down to verbal hyperbole of the fantasist stripe.
These days are fast approaching from the left and from the right, they suddenly arrived and replaced the shapeless night, making lenses that picked up on what was previously unclear, and sounding out vibrations of normally inaudible frequencies.
It's the days , it's the days, and the time containing meanings. It's the moments, and in the moments, in the panic that ensues, I think Pedro's having visions, seeing things that are not there, being kissed by the poetry bruising the air.