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Atop her night ‘fore one more broken altar, The oddity in #309, a special sort of Pale beholden raccoon junkie’d lids, Was showering mascara’d mayhem And naked come two windows down. Shivered and if only by candlelight – Just her, from cold to ever’d numb, Her dog, (a lab and, “Sam,” I think), Endeavor and smoldering wick Amidst burnt flesh, timid Added scent wrought a Stainless steel’s earlier promise. Alone, and the winds carried Whimpers, tearless atop A mixture – sweat, fear, relief, And, “you’d once loved me.” She Looks up, under starless and towards Two wandering eyes, my own. So much so, that even my Beer-tainted tongue could taste, “It,” – *** cash, and solemn lies; She knew, I’d taste, I’d waste, come Her sojourn aimed desperate and pallet. But I refuse, when she called, She begged and she gently lullabied, “Ravage,” as the nails trace spiders, Seeping, “junk,” and down her leg, “Come be with me.” Please? But – the, “Wiser?” I closed my eyes. The, “Weaker,” took my last swig, And alone, shuttered my window; So having dodged her bullet, I remove my clothes, my ***** socks, And imagined one wrist’s warmth Atop her night ‘fore one more broken altar.
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Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC
Lullaby and Junk
Atop her night ‘fore one more broken altar, The oddity in #309, a special sort of Pale beholden raccoon junkie’d lids, Was showering mascara’d mayhem And naked come two windows down. Shivered and if only by candlelight – Just her, from cold to ever’d numb, Her dog, (a lab and, “Sam,” I think), Endeavor and smoldering wick Amidst burnt flesh, timid Added scent wrought a Stainless steel’s earlier promise. Alone, and the winds carried Whimpers, tearless atop A mixture – sweat, fear, relief, And, “you’d once loved me.” She Looks up, under starless and towards Two wandering eyes, my own. So much so, that even my Beer-tainted tongue could taste, “It,” – *** cash, and solemn lies; She knew, I’d taste, I’d waste, come Her sojourn aimed desperate and pallet. But I refuse, when she called, She begged and she gently lullabied, “Ravage,” as the nails trace spiders, Seeping, “junk,” and down her leg, “Come be with me.” Please? But – the, “Wiser?” I closed my eyes. The, “Weaker,” took my last swig, And alone, shuttered my window; So having dodged her bullet, I remove my clothes, my ***** socks, And imagined one wrist’s warmth Atop her night ‘fore one more broken altar.
liam-c-calhoun
Written by
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC
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