Anna Block: The Urgency of Now

I look and I breathe in. Your body is alive. Your body is a worm. You slither down and coil around my gaze. I come so close, that I can feel how your viscous slow desire muffles around my neck.

Under the pressure of my look your body accelerates, transforms, turns into a shriek. Your skin is a gaping wound – pleading, starving.

I step forward, I look, I penetrate. I take a picture.

I lose myself in looking at your slender wet twigs. They wave and dance embracing the fireflies. 
I look at your fragile tiny flowers. They unfold, oozing white milky sweetness. In hot air of your unleashed lust they wilt, they float down under my eyelids, they die in ecstasy. 
I watch your shimmering drops of sweat, they shudder and glisten reflecting my sharp glare.

I walk through the endless mazes. Heavy night is landing on us dissolving all the borders. We lose and acquire at the same time, we depart without yet arriving. We travel with no destination. We are. Now.

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