It's so quiet
in here but we make no sound. the silence grows shy so I hear distant music.
It's guitar music but sounds hollow and twisted. clenching n unclenching my
fists. I feel eyes in the side of my head but don't dare look. violent abstract
thoughts cloud my judgement. there is a Gerhard Richter artwork on the wall. I
look at that instead. it begins to melt and slide its way down the wall.
rippling wet paper streaked slick. the eyes in the side of my head are now
closed. I walk up to the art piece and start licking the melting paper. my
tongue is wet. I drool all over myself. I fall back and sit on the floor. the
paint flows like fine poetry or wonderful music. I continue to watch. I haven't eaten in many hours. I haven't
showered in 3 days. my beard is wispy and disheveled, it's taken over my
face. my mouth is dry. but I feel fucking fantastic. vision fading, jaded mind.
I sit staring for what seems like eternity and can't be more than one
minute flat.
Aqeel Parvez writes and makes art. He lives in Leeds, UK. He is
the author of The Streetlights Are Beckoning Nirvana (Analog Submission Press)
& his latest chapbook, Anthem Of Purgatory (Self Published) is out now.
Find him on Instagram @ap.writer and twitter @aqeelparvez
