'Penumbra' by Sarah Księska at Ramiken, New York

Oh my melancholy Sun, pray tell, what could blind thee?

A prick upon a floating seat, a raining cloud of Self; 
such different shades of DMT blues.

 A little malice waits for a sensitive bottom. 

A couch upholstered in nipples and eyes 
glides into the cosmos,

 riding a room that didn’t stop at the last floor. 
(Big and small) eyeballs catch the unseen, 
holstered in wet pastel reptile.

 An old masked creature covets

 a stash of doves and red blood cells, her youth: 
a giant marble memory to hold forever. 
Techno hummingbird dove starfish;

 the face of corrosion, gripped by circuitry. 

As the light fades, the subconscious grinds harder and harder. Visible reality begins to lose, unable to tame the unseen. 
Księska conjures the celestial denizens of her twilight zone, suspended in perspective,

 tweaked hallucinations, girdled in creep,

 blooming on iced aluminum.

 The oil worked to a sublime matte.

 Painted with brushes. Often, makeup brushes. 

To feel the extremes.