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Nov 2014
The heart of the shade,
The snivelling, fading essence that I would love.
My insides gradually become cavernous
A warped ringing fills me, like a cracked bell.

I hear the chants of brushing skin
But I am so silent.
Allowing their bodies to reverberate aloud,
Soundlessly,
Endlessly.
Wild Myths
Written by
Wild Myths
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