mike-finneyWhisper

American
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knittingI w / O h / F a
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The Vice seriesGLUTTONY / Go ahead and gorge yourself upon gallons of gaudy garments, / Gaining more weight got by galling garish goods I guess won’t
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emergeA Man will ask himself: / Is the glass taken of half / Or given of it?
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Don't look down.These bristles twinge my hide, / For a second I worry of looking a poor shave. / I chuckle;
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Do not be afraidThe river that flows from the depths of your soul; / It touches my hand in a sting of rain. / There is pain there, yes
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No one knows me and no one knows me, but he, oh he.A drill to the brain sha’nt cure the cancer of my heart, / A song so sweet can’t thin my blood of the past, / Flattering tongues run rant will play their course,
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Us.However softly do the heavens surrender to the soft thatching, / Through which a delicate silver scratches the path. / The brittle night kisses the skin
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Furious angelsLeave then. / If it so pleases you. / I cannot take hold of why you wish so
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I watch each delicate thread.I watch each delicate thread / Pull away / (Frail twine,
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EchoesIt’s / Not a token drawn around the neck, but / A
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