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| Rose Liquid, Bleed On Your Thorn
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Slash through
Air
And cut through
Bone
As soft flesh
And rose liquid
Seperate
Around the steel wedge.
Crying and screeching;
Echoes that shake the night
And make leaves whiten
And crinkle
Like an old widow's skin.
Eyes, the size of
Silver coins,
Burst open
And spill fluid
Out of young lettuce leaves.
Violins rot,
The wood decomposing
Along with its music,
The bow sliding ever so softly against
Rusty strings, sending
Salty red-orange particles to fly,
Only to be carried by fleas
That hide under the tail of a dead cow.
Rose liquid sinks deep
Into linen
That flaps from the stormy wind
That screams out your name.
Hollow faces dance in the leaves
That fall like white snow
Into a black swamp
That swallows light
Into its depths.
The leaves sink into
The dark surface
Like human teeth
Slipping back into their gums.
The long steel wedge strikes
Against the stone ground,
Rising back up into
Crunchy dead
Mush.
Dear Rose-red liquid,
Stick to that wedge.
Roses hook with their thorns
And never let go. |
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Posted by june_lunare on 2008-02-26 14:00:42 | Rating: | Views: 37
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