hello my name is édouard manet
i can not dance i can not sing i can
not not art
im too crude for optimism and there are too many windows
stop your pose
stop your posing
you know that the way your neck bends and your chin tilts
the way your fingers
hello my name is édouard manet
i have no voice
i can not prance i can not ring i can not
not not
not
im too true for surrealism and there are too many artifacts
stop your prose
stop your prosing
you know that way your back transcends my fingertips and your limbs will wilt
the way your dreams
hello my name is édouard manet
i can not feeling anything any more
i can not open
i can not fear
i can not sleep or create