My frantic worship of winter is bitter.
His ache was gone in a moment,
you use the knife and incubate a symphony.
We the ugly rust run mad
always beneath the Light
bared lust watching Love
drooling delicate shadows.
-
Your repulsive tongue has screamed
sweet languid moans,
my cry is bitter and essential
our garden is now a forest.
Nov 23, 2010
Nov 23, 2010 at 2:11 PM UTC
My frantic worship of winter is bitter.
His ache was gone in a moment,
you use the knife and incubate a symphony.
We the ugly rust run mad
always beneath the Light
bared lust watching Love
drooling delicate shadows.
-
Your repulsive tongue has screamed
sweet languid moans,
my cry is bitter and essential
our garden is now a forest.
