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Nico Vassilakis

THE SECRET DIMENSIONS OF BOX TIME

supremely flight addled. clouds balance at a distance. from the ledge of
a creamy flatness and in the center of darkness nothing quite works. the
pocket carries a transistor and in the morning dew wakens throughout the
city. the scaffold of a damaged eyelid. speak. speak now. let animals
walk out your mouth. enough gravity to promote falling. the recent
obscuring of clarity. curious dimensions. whispering stairwells. under
one condition. that i depend on you. swirling cushion. electric pillow
deviating from dozens of unhandled parcels. a castle hovers. removes any
outer layer. more indentations accrue. your eyebrow is one. exceptions
along the interstate. overhead. a ray made to convince the geese. wax
structures. permission for new persimmons to sing. elate. foliage
slurping. becoming entangled with an oxygen ball. tentacles more
elaborate. a nub of pencil discarded. a shuffled deck of cards. under an
awning my arm runs the length of your shoulders. chalk drawings. sweet
appendage talks, swings away. or roots maybe. an orchard of puckering
lips. or birds roost in hair. the neck. the angle. the great
disposition. down the hallway is one memory. three pits in a cup. hiding
in the glove. my hat leaves me. racing toward light. soaking in an
intersection. an inspection reveals cake melting off the helmet. a
distraction worth repeating. erasers of varying sizes. from the upper
triangle. spin back. reach down and appropriate. a cascade of fluid



The Music of FOLDED CREASE

what to read
how to inflict silence
what to read
how to fill your head

a fearless symmetry
fits
regardless
of what you suspect

-always a hurt to distract you from the rest-

now my fingers alight on your skin
a complex of clicks
dreaming suffers
the lattice work of the sinister and soft

I bite with my teeth

a torch is better than flashlight
how it flitters away or
the vibrations disintegrate

odor is continuous
stitched onto the future
convulsing at play

the rivets fail their formica
a brittle accomplishment without the aid of this head
your description arouses me
absurdity caught in the crux of language
nothing delivers not a thing
a pencil of broken mentalities
his name drawn on
a vellum you rub against

he is dressed in memos
never more of a conversation
dissolution of tongue
the saliva of unsaid words
a horse trap dipped alongside oblivion


over a cyclical slip
demented dented by the month

it happens in my head, a diagram, language
forms a focus
after veering off
then the moment dissolves
more of my unavailable grasp

the pre sentence vs. the present tense

how alphabets resemble a mouth
pieces falling
out of
place

her need of a rhombus
projected across her forehead

regrets over mountains, coins
a statue of a humming bird

"I may not be able to say it word for word, but it's there"

as part of knowing
an ingredient and how movement defines us

a boy with a flower in his mouth

the dispenser of words
his perfect contraption
-the one he sees, him only

zero as the great hinge
a hole-in-one zero
two holes in two zeros
three holes in three zeros and so on

waddles across
a stainless stream

that continues
in the moment
enough delicacy
to apply
objects onto
 comfort itself

if a collision
occurs
and scoops out
the very head spooned blank

nothing matters or nothing but nothing matters

the weather
between our faces

cone twilight
french kissing the unknown
lumps the dark ones together
truest nothing in
constant state of evolved
spinning

sweeter
swift delirious
coaxed
by edges
along a line

shreds fog and
exposes the lighted path
but targets the very wiggle
before breath leaves you

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