She was reasoning with the vampire. Pounding on broken gears in the motor of the machines. Marking the ceiling in flecks of red. For the spiders to find. For the juxtaposition to speculate. On the difference between strangers and friends.
Nothing empty. To hate. Machines choking on their engines. While she tinkers with the stitches on her panties. The obvious instruction. The terminally relevant oversight. That I can feel by touch. That I can see with these eyes.
The staggered clouds that flank the sun. The envious sky as it looks down upon the sea. The limbs removed from this desiccated doll. Still grabbing at things they cannot reach.
In blood there is reason. In need there is justice.
Her time machine tries, but cannot prove it. But she knows the numbers. and all the monsters that would use them.
Sunday
5/16/2010 12:27:00 AM
Sad Labels:
introspect
,
loneliness
,
love
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