Friday, February 11, 2011

would you wear my eyes?

"My body is a torn mattress,
Disheveled throbbing place
For the comings and goings
Of loveless transients.
The whole of me
Is an unfinished room
Filled with dank breath
Escaping into gasps to nowhere
Before completely objective mirrors.
I have shot myself with my eyes,
but death refused my advances.
I have walked on my walls each night
Through strange landscapes in my head

...I can't go out anymore.
I shall sit on my ceiling.
Would you wear my eyes?"

-Bob Kaufman

photos: Francesca Woodman

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