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#day10
I could swear I felt the sting, as you injected yourself in my bloodstream. In my defence, I was high for the most of it. I was drunk on all of that your sparkly wings offered back. And your melancholic gaze I've only seen in fiction since. I'll admit to my arrogance to assume parasites were mostly worms, when I know there are still songs about pretty, magic, folk. And I can feel myself both host and feast, and all you see is just a treat. And if I had soul, it's now ablaze, and now all I do is waste my days. And at this point in space and time, your words occupy my mind.
0
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 3:52 PM UTC
Parasitic
aloof alphas attack! banal betas boom, before backing cautiously, creeping down, defensible dark estuaries, estranged escapes from fierce fiery-eyed giant gators gathered, hard hearted hedged in impossible illumination, irate jowly jeering jaded jackals **** **** **** … let loose low laughs making much mirth mercilessly now none need nourishment oblivious obvious, overt a putrescent phalanx, quite quintessential a querulous quorum a quatre raucous resounding raptorials retreated subsequently seizing sizeable sarcoid sections in scissor strokes total tormentors, that time twists the ugly utilitarian veracious victory works the wild yearning as zealots
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
Abecedarian - A to Z a lifetime and cycle of poetics