oh you splendidly sweet blocks of cold air and open space... waiting - begging me to fill you in with pencil-scribbled mistakes...
stage blocking that leaves clocks tick, tock- tocking... outlining time in smooth, cubicle lines... a marching band formation just waiting to be the climax of my geometrical masturbation...
marking spots with x's and dots... stacking up shapes like bricks layered in between superhero capes...
cold and empty, my graph paper pleasure box... pardon me... i've gotta go get my rocks off.
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1 comment:
oneword: yessssssssss.
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