Sunday 8/04/2013 12:52:00 AM

chasing her resolve in doses of the disease. there is comfort in the illness. security in the bleeding. nesting dolls breathe their quiet songs. skin like autumn. cool and abrupt. impatient. like flickering signs lost in the tremors of a fading journey. corpses are free to dance. ghosts colorful and opaque. as the end of the world approaches. in soiled aprons and flaking scabs.

she's only older. grayer and more distant. kite string eyes struggling with the wind. and all the weaker forces strugging to defy gravity's purchase on this skeleton. we're just bones. heavy with skin. worn daggers stabbing at the void. imagining monsters in every corners of heaven.

defeat comes in the same way victory does. limping and unresolved. as this world insists. no beginning. no finish. just the pieces. more jagged than the years would suggest. small fires barely alive in the dark. started, yet unfinished. as is the nature of touch.

these strangers. a stubborn division. more arithemtic than creature. the algebra of trying. wanting. what belongs only to the muddled scrape of chance. a fleeting surrdner. an obstinate war. all the battles forgotten. only the dead left for us to barter.

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