Kristina

God is my breakfast test, summer within a lover's storm, don't i feel blessed, smiling dangerously, with her twigging lymphoma, the troubles start with me, howling with tremendous being, her complaints grow enormous, she’s a lightning seed, for her own epiphany, a thunderous performance, before even Dejeuner, music roars from her Beat box, a fist inside me claws, opens another bottle, a Samuel Beckett palimpest, acting like she's never been born, please give it a rest, we dance around the floor. .