Ian Patricks

(starsian)

35 milimeter

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Respect the king but fear the slave. How many days, how many hours, minutes, my wish, my dream?
We finish from the council of elders, to the children playing with the foams from the sea.
Here she comes, she says, “Kiss my lips, feel the rhythm of my heart.” But I reply, “Just breathe…” The flavor of nuts and blood I taste on her tongue.
What is the meaning? I killed the dogs that tried to take me prisoner in my own home.
I still think of the smooth browed one, the one with sweets in her eyes. It was so real; the scent of her coconut oil still lingers on my sweater.
Where are we going? What do I know that is right, what do I perceive wrong? Where is the end of this journey, where is grandma, what is real and what is not?   I have lost the sensation of fear, the meaning of loss… I feel God talking, and when he talks, everything goes silent.
The darkness is here; the light is around the corner. Blow out the damned candle. What am I prepared to see through the 35milimeter lens?
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