thrice the bell is talking bronze skin over the
courtyard young cells.
soporific
wagging skirts, the measured abstraction of laughing
blond hair. by wet scalps busting through the air
impulsed to dry halls unloud
whispered learning. droll and fleet, a mouth boorishly
pouting a bed of weak ideal knowledge
to lay, to prone, in its verbal belly a thrashing distaste
they're
so
bored
gooutside
flat feeted lady's . the golden dead trees beckon
with gaunt branches failing drips
why am i?in this little box
Sep 23, 2010
Sep 23, 2010 at 1:26 PM UTC
thrice the bell is talking bronze skin over the
courtyard young cells.
soporific
wagging skirts, the measured abstraction of laughing
blond hair. by wet scalps busting through the air
impulsed to dry halls unloud
whispered learning. droll and fleet, a mouth boorishly
pouting a bed of weak ideal knowledge
to lay, to prone, in its verbal belly a thrashing distaste
they're
so
bored
gooutside
flat feeted lady's . the golden dead trees beckon
with gaunt branches failing drips
why am i?in this little box
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