I collect weird beauties,

beauty behaves,
I never did.

It blooms in those plastic flowers,
cigarette burns,
the couch as a bed,
bed as a wardobe,
weird designs
well behaved designs.

Beauties that should never be touched,
I talk about them,
I enjoy them,
culture,
politics,
power,
money,
sex,
violence.

I have always wanted to know everything,
so many things,
that somedays, I just forget.

Death keeps borrowing my name like that,
then gives me back,
however, slighly different.

Now I have lived as many people
as I have burried.

And I keep returning to see those beauties.

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