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Carlo C Gomez Oct 2020
Here come the confectionary clouds
Packed like powdered sugar

And
They
Drizzle
All
Over
Her
Hankering
Hungry
Heart

Little quicksilver has
A bit of a sweet tooth
And grubby hands well into
A box of Quality Street
Amy Grindhouse Feb 2014
Droplets of a black swan's fever sweats
coat purplish nightmare blisters
Reminds me of nights before
I forced my eyes to sometimes drift
through broken down envy telescopes
opening pathways to fissured late night ruptures
Blotting out black plague garlic mask threats
no one left to speak ill of these mass grave
injuries
Our blight flag battle standards set for
miserable whiskey soaked duelists trudging through the snow
past careless crossroad wasps' nest dissection
a Glasgow smile cut in a hostile makeover struggle  
makes for uneasy amends
when my copper cable pirate princess
holds the offending knife
pulled across like a dishwater blonde's drag on a last fix
I know I'm hard to follow but no one else
will take the torrential reigns
to leads us home but bitterly so
Who do we end up with in heaven
if no one likes us now?
Ryan Jul 2021
himalayan salt can't fight the beavers
and veruca salt can't fight the seether
only use spotify, not deezer

— The End —