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White Rooms

Displace my body from this room. Slight crevices at its corners suffocate
White leaking edges. Like a small, life raft in the middle of the ocean, my body and its many iterations slowly modify themselves to shield generations of obsessed desires. I try to fill the holes that the puss keeps leaking out of an in, slowly more corpses rise and they do take on the shape necessary to seal the room in their contorted and misshapen state. Desperate to save this space from its impending fate of suffocation and implosion. In a gasp for air I whisper to one of them: Dear ancestor, what has become of you? My mind shifts in chaos to imagine yet another room: one with walls so distant and void from infinite desire. Distilled self pursuit enveloped with imagination and hope. In here there is only one mind, one soul, one body that is me and only me. For in here, void of misconceived loneliness, I am free to pursue the ultimate act of masturbation. I cradle myself in a fetal position and I imagine one truth. The sweet embrace of mother’s womb. I float in an expansive dark space that my imagination’s eye can’t see otherwise.

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