An earthquake rolls across her skin
as green curtains reserve a space
for construction -
he looks at splattered bed sheets
and cradles a small shiver.
He inhales, holds the breath. Hands
calloused by supermarket boxes grip
the railing. Cord of blood and sweat
fused into life is taken into other,
more precise palms.
A hand on his shoulder whirls
him around - birth is burdened
into his arms. Black curls smell sweet.
He feels her hand envelope his as he
leans forward to kiss the wailing temple
turned an angry shade of red. She's
whisked away - to wash and dry.
A statue of bones -
becomes a colossal collapse.















Comments
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LIT NEEDS SOUND
Make A Noise About It Here
T'was great..
x
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"Hugh Mann eh? Now theres a name I can trust!"
Me Loves Futurama
x
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<caveatLECTOR>and jon beat me to uranus LOLOLOL
<concrete-surfer> your mom depreciates in value as she's traded
<intangebility> o man. pink is singing sweet dreams on tv atm, and madeline says "string trees are made of peas?"
x
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Are you sure which side of the glass you are on?
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indeed.
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"The world is not enough- but it's such a perfect place to start" - Garbage
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`roguewolf19 looks so Balla.
thank you, its a bit overwhelming, to come on and find all these sweet messages, I hope it gets loved a bit more. It is my favourite, its been on my mind for a week now, I only had the courage to put it down yesterday.
thank you
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