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The brain rejects,

the camera intersects-

we unfold ,unfurl, forget

future files of twisted text.


page i


my pineal gland-

hand in hand we walk the winter lands of

stolen sands.

what lives washed away,

by the mind of a maze-

as days turn

to scars born,

on skin


from a bedroom wall.

walk a while,

pass a pile of long lost , double crossed diaries,

dust brushed

an acre aches pass by me;

in ancient land

cerebral lakes

washed out to see.

Make the most of


before disassembly takes 3,

re live


to mend me-

i found a fountain in frenzy,

befriend the



What;s the half life ,

of a house wife?

the asking price for a glass knife?

i've knocked twice so drop by.

I've got a file of photos




compose a concoction,

who knows?

weave a web of confusion,

kindly connect me to my illusion,

i'm using regression

to relearn the lesson.

Got a ladder suspension,

to a library of of un sold ,



A muttered alliance,

an attic of answers,

a death darkened dream,

a spiralling scream-

a laughter

a footstep ,unknown

in an avenue alone,

take me home.

There's a thief in this tale,

in this grey misty street,

i feel like i'm missing a beat.

there's a thief in this tale

in this grey misty street

i feel like i'm missing a beat.

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Madelyne Flowers_edited_edited_edited_edited.jpg
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Self taught artist, designer ,performer, vocalist and therapist

Madelyne , is from the south west of England .

She specialises in vibrant , memorable and dynamic creative work.

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