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Dec 2010
Shadowed confessions beneath the swooning doves brow only bring me closer to the flat of the blade.

Scrape the rusted carapace of your belly. Those glass petals fall indefinitely despite your shattering spree.

The tense tumult breathes beads that I can’t bother to see. Spurn your breed; the pages are within reach.

The turquoise brands the skin so smoothly. Take it not harshly, your trenchant child still folds gladly.

Cut loose the slips lest you strain your pulse. ****** thoughts bleed corrosive tongue.

From their eyes your pages keep, this archive’s story untold lets no man weep.
Written by
Sherlock
806
   Violante Holmes
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