daring porcupine wipes his tears with pointed hands. amber tiger
fangs chew the knots in pelvis of night. blank caramel between her
thighs. giggles and whispers. apes and soldiers. cross and loud with the
radio cast. clay guns telling stories in empty fields.
a
tempest of strangers. pieces of skin. like rifles and ammunition. the
numbers humble. the needle urgent. as the seams make their decisions.
goats
in red capes. chewing on the curtain. the story that wants to happen.
the words that struggle to be told. she wakes the rabbit. to ask it
about the proximity of the finish line.
simple
marathons. that run us. while we wait for something to move. measuring
the miles in sweat and thirst. and the hysterics of running. collars on
the necks of gods. stiff with choices. or the illusions that pass for
them.
temporary cuts in permanent wrists. no blood.
just a deficit of courage in the seldom of depression. quiet lies build
their frictions. smooth stone. jagged sticks. gamble the time machine.
impotent wolves discard the fiction.
when we were small. it all looked so big.
Wednesday
1/16/2013 01:50:00 AM
Sad Labels:
addiction
,
dark art
,
philosophy
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