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She was wobbling and sailing with the strokes—she was just bucking in all the dreads and uncertainties—she was just staring and letting the cold flood, brush her naked feet. The radiance that persists in her core—yet discovering that missing part; Where is it? Where can she meet it? It was the same twists that drove her alive on the cushions that piles around her feet— it was meaningless that she couldn't wouldn't understand—the notion of her harsh sigh—the suffocating uncertainty that remains; that stays—circulating another form of pleasure, in her spirit. That is the curse at night—it drifts, it resounds, like a futile, annoying clock—she couldn't eradicate.
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May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 10:43 AM UTC
The Curse at Night
She was wobbling and sailing with the strokes—she was just bucking in all the dreads and uncertainties—she was just staring and letting the cold flood, brush her naked feet. The radiance that persists in her core—yet discovering that missing part; Where is it? Where can she meet it? It was the same twists that drove her alive on the cushions that piles around her feet— it was meaningless that she couldn't wouldn't understand—the notion of her harsh sigh—the suffocating uncertainty that remains; that stays—circulating another form of pleasure, in her spirit. That is the curse at night—it drifts, it resounds, like a futile, annoying clock—she couldn't eradicate.
cordelia
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May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 10:43 AM UTC
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