these are the long roads. shimmering pin points on the horizon. shy wolves hiding behind their fangs. the yellow noose. the pink discipline. broken darts and empty glasses at the bar. a desert of faces. all eyes and scabs. no voice.
these are the subtle winters. that never seem to end. bloody fishhooks in the shallow water. the spooling ethics of the hunt.
the future has its funeral. dirty claws in the meat. the smiling corpse. the abundant infection of when.
tepid surrenders. the simple suicides of touch. naive emperors drowning in their robes. distance has its advantages.
the rotting apple dares its song. memories of that first bite impossible to ignore. the hungry rider swallows the miles. content to have gone too far.
the frail twig beats the wind. searching for a song.
Sunday
5/11/2014 12:29:00 AM
Post a Comment