the bridge choked. constituents of gravity. embraced the panic.
fractions well spent on anonymity and shame.
the numbers chose. its loyalties to the deficit. empty antipathy and the appropriate chaos.
sudden suns and seldom winters. the limp of likely ghosts. the arrogance of resonant toads. all the official congress of quivering lips and knotted bow ties.
she read the distance in pistols and butter knives. she bit down. as if there was substance in any of it.
the darkness began to sweat. mealy and overripe. the moment started to piss. and she knew the math had lied.
Thursday
2/04/2016 02:25:00 AM
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