Luke De-Sciscio performs spoken word that loops through fragmented declarations of self, cosmic imagery, and surreal actions like walking on mirrors and swimming in another's spit. The piece frames existence as a temporal cycle where identity is repeatedly born and resurrected, dissolving boundaries between self and other.
I'm a dream fighting out of a man, man on a stream rolling onto a bend. I'm whatever is around the corner. I'm wherever my history ends. I'm only ever asking what happens when I— dot dot dot. That's what happens when I'm a vision in my eye. My eye decides, and at the center of it all, the universal eye, this cosmic force that runs in my veins. I'm a human second and I'm life by claim. My mischief is Hanging on. I was born once into a raging storm. It's not my fault I've been dressed in my time. Each wave that whips the wild of my mind. I'm happening now. If not for me, it's to see what he makes of himself. I'm walking on mirror. I'm biting my hand. I've swum in your spit and pawed at your land. I'm listening still in flow, divided. My captain will that this is what time is. There's a space in between the silent divides, like how the waves The world fades in when the thief Anon dies. I've resurrected a million times. I'm born every minute and die every night. I'm here to find the melody, impose a lesser self, redress the false assertion that there's anybody else. My action is the mauling of a temporal confine that sees itself repeated infinitely in every direction. I'm walking on a mirror, I'm biting my hand. I've swum in your spit and pored at your plans. I'm listening still in flow divided, my captain wailed at. This is what time is. I'm walking on a mirror, I'm biting my hand. I've swum in your spit and pored at your land. I'm listening still in flow divided. Divided my captain wells, that this is what time is. Walking on mirror, bite in your hand, I swung in your spit and tore your plans. I'm listening now. Flow divided my captain wells, that this is what time is.
