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Doubt

by bonsai

Tentacles, tendrils, invading, intruding Suffocate the sulci What is, seems otherwise What seems, isn’t A succubus, seducing An incubus, enticing Beckoning “Follow me.” A steady trickle Tiny droplets Against the granite Cutting holes where once were none Particles carried on the wind Smoothing jagged faces Polishing Destroying? Ask the mountain.
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Written by
bonsai
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Written by
bonsai
Published
Apr 9, 2016
Time
1m
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