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I've got eyes on every planet weeping like watering holes, out of El Dorado. only they're not golden nor heralding, these eyes are wide and dilated before a nameless, naked mistress with lipstick, smeared between her inner thighs. You thought that I was your special Siren, a blind post script for your middle-class suburban soul, with a girlish laugh and perfect teeth. But, honey, I've eaten too many men alive in darker alleys and I gave that up years ago because emptiness only fuels the dead and I got sick of people who never changed and always took the same way to work. So please- dismiss those touching thoughts, like some small school boy tardy to class in the 1950s with knee socks covering scabs and a case of fresh milk in glass. Alas,- call off your self-designed verbal troops for I am not your revolutionary cry, nothing you try can protest the things I've been, willingly. I should confide to you now that Sisyphus, himself, already walked away, with his head in between his shoulders and tears upon his cheeks. Listen to me child, I am no myth to be tempted, Pandora opened my own box.
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
Blind Post Script.
I've got eyes on every planet weeping like watering holes, out of El Dorado. only they're not golden nor heralding, these eyes are wide and dilated before a nameless, naked mistress with lipstick, smeared between her inner thighs. You thought that I was your special Siren, a blind post script for your middle-class suburban soul, with a girlish laugh and perfect teeth. But, honey, I've eaten too many men alive in darker alleys and I gave that up years ago because emptiness only fuels the dead and I got sick of people who never changed and always took the same way to work. So please- dismiss those touching thoughts, like some small school boy tardy to class in the 1950s with knee socks covering scabs and a case of fresh milk in glass. Alas,- call off your self-designed verbal troops for I am not your revolutionary cry, nothing you try can protest the things I've been, willingly. I should confide to you now that Sisyphus, himself, already walked away, with his head in between his shoulders and tears upon his cheeks. Listen to me child, I am no myth to be tempted, Pandora opened my own box.
gwen-whitmoore
Written by
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
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