Friday 6/08/2012 12:53:00 AM

the thief in her grin. counts backward. Solving for nil.

The box. Thick with uncertainty. The science. Frail with the man.

The end comes in choke of neon. The hum of the gas as it presses against dark. Her reticent thunder steals the storm. Like the world is too small to grab. And all these flowers in my hand are daggers. And nothing is ever so small I am. Right now. Devout with self. Pious with discontent.

she listens as the world falls silent. For a whisper. Touch like knives. Too sharp. Blood like thieves. Simple monsters. keep running. though they've lost the race.

The worm on her hook still alive inside the fish's mouth.

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