huis clos / no exit
be careful when you’ve down-lowed?
it’s seven terabytes, terrifying, terraced thoughts, terraforming, tell me
we are not ‘normal people’, but encased in their gelatin, into and from us it bleeds.
the sardine tin, sardonic, sarcastic, sadistic play by Sartre.
est-elle Estelle? Ines loves her and yet Garcin is the prize.
the bed is a pedestal, raised elevation signifies the power differential,
a nocturne for the nervous system.
red blood cells are an embarassment, exposing failed slut tests.
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