by Marius Surleac
A big large room, 2 matches, 1 bulb which flickers, 3 silhouettes: 1 boy and 2 girls, one bottle of water, 2 bottles of whisky, one opened window, one thermometer, 6 nipples: 2 smaller, 2 a little bit bigger and 2 huge ones. Once in a while … 4 feet, 1 match burns, the bulb scatters a movement sensation, lots of moans: of coldness, of pleasure, of pain, of death; a bottle of whisky sniffs for gustative capillaries of a sensuousness woman.
The second woman screams into the melancholy joy of love! Because of the frostiness, only caterpillar feet cramped into floors blue marble. The thermometer looks like sensing a big, atoms, concentration – oscillating her volume. We know that under a critical temperature, the blood will not flow through veins; viscosity grows … the same, the friction coefficient!
The second bottle of whisky, 3 lips on the narrow neck of a bottle … chase for death.
Lots of laughs, ecstasy moments, 1 jealousy idea, first bottle of whisky crushes, from the body of one women blows blood glass crocks … sensation laughs, diluted into the idea of eyewash, on the floor blood combines itself with whisky. 4 feet and a dead body … sometimes, 2 feet and a dead body. Whisky flows inside their bodies, with high feeling through veins, 2 thin brains – one was cold, because of the wind blowing too crazy through window.
One idea, the second whisky bottle crushes, the bulb flickers horror, a sweet death and a sensual woman that laughs. Her big boobs cover a bloody painting! The water bottle crushes on the red marble floor, looking for a cold blue. The last match starts burning and explodes under alcohol vapours.
… 3 dead bodies, 2 cold brains – one of them much warmer, 3 broken bottles, a cold dead thermometer, the same 6 nipples, one broken bulb.
Black, cold and warm, red and blue large room.
One eye stares on me, on a piece of paper … to all that happens.
This is you!
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