The Measurer and the Master Taker of Notes I describe everything I can think of. Cancelled colours. Just you tied low to a post binding marks on wrists and ankles. Born animal blissful. Re-seen mural of a desert oasis. Small small thing ribs squeezed until they touch together and crack. Hair in pretty ribbons. Noise of laughter and unwound bandages trailing behind you. Barren clay hills. Someone else’s life. Pitch of voice tight. Here you go - Hello Kitty candy-pink alarm clock. Here you go - handfuls of human hair. Ejaculate and piss on her. Smear blood on the wall above her cot. See through walls. See her crouched inside a plastic box outside the Centre Pompidou.
