Tuesday 11/02/2010 12:31:00 AM

the dark winces as she stuffs herself into its folds. bent and bloated fables from the lips of senile sages. its croaking jaws yawn. at the thought of her. frail and morbid butterfly. paper-thin wings roar like thunder.

watch the hours. they will lie.

storms come loud. under the seduction of change. leave us quietly. satisfied and stale. the skin on the trees fraying. the leaves all but gone. the cold out there seeping through the glass. as the walls shiver against the door.

calling her wolves. those shifting shadows in her thoughts. to pick clean the carcass. rotting moments. places in the past. no longer hers to have. weeds sprouting between the cement. slowly smothering her path.

the roar of butterflies' wings. the whisper of giants.

the hole in the bucket. that caused her to drop her magic beans.

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