I'm reading over your shoulders, it says it in every line, in ever curve and crack. it says it in every detail of your face, unmistakably apparent
Pick up the phone. (blessed be the thief, disguised in skin, and blessed are the fingers that gesture him in.) paint the receiver to the side of
(Crows, wipe the blood from the end of your claws. Said the vulture Lets gather like storms for the war. Crows, as the night turns its skin into coal
(Oh crashing airplane, where were you the day she left?) underneath the laughs there lies a need that nobody is getting. and an honesty that doesn
We move by instinct, darling let our hands be hatchets, let us wander blindly, swinging madly in a forest made of flesh. we move by instinct, darling
Oh, you've a pretty mouth, leave your lips to linger on my skin and kiss me one last time i will roll off your tongue like a whisper in the winter
Don't call this an art project. this is science, this is progress. and don't pretend these are heartfelt words, we are children dressed as surgeons
It's perfectly ok, I'm afraid, too
