[04 Jan 2007 | Thursday]
 | Category: Writing and Poetry the fevered pinch of arsenic tendrils. suffocating under a web of loving fingers. Poison. The familiar rush of deepest blacks and sweltering crimson. I know you. frightening. terrifying. Tearing away inhibitions. Scraping cultures of hubris and vaulted sanity. running. screaming. moaning. seething. struggling with the treatment. cure or consequence? With no middle ground. |
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