sedentary leaks, sedentary squeaks languid and disheveled what have happened to you my little dear? What are the things that come up to your head? poison, broken promises, threesome, hands that smelt of burnt cigarette pistols, candy wrappers, left over table wine, voltage, an unpaid bill paper bag, neurons, winged cloud, murmurs, licking bodies, lip gloss blood stained tub, dancing shemales, antibiotics, and Scottish widows imaginary phone calls, changing numbers, asking details, age, sex, and location. a room for two, fresh juice and needles, eyebugs and bullets. lackluster eyes, what are they piercing at? immobile, yet you’ve seen yourself passing by different times and different dimensions. for you, the world is just a paper cup raise it and it will be filled. but how many times will it remain empty? still waiting and fading away.