poem and photo: katalin pusztaszeri

ENOUGH

you get up one day...

and the recognition hits you,

like blinding phosphenetic light-strikes in the eyeball

when dabbing squeezing your forehead in multiple agony
life can't strip off more skin from you... every day is about FLAYING...

dragging fumbling delving with the edge of a dissecting knife

under the stringy stiffened dermis layer of your human integument

what is under skin layers?

...an anaesthetized pure flesh and bone statuette....

when the outer epidermis crusts, becomes detached

the sensory receptors do not transmit signals to the central nervous system anymore, the brain turns inert and numb

it is a silent Nirvana to be left opened

under harsh anatomical theater-lights in a dead-room