subdued shadow of my remorse...thorn in my side...blade under me...the chances have ruffled between us: jagged feathers of a sick bird. today they upend themselves in pirouettes, a wrathful bouquet. and for whom? for what god, what cruel goddess do we pursue this slope to ruin? chase this treacherous tail? on nights like this, the glint of your moon's eyes' teeth still fresh, a coat of snow in the lawn of my mind
subdued shadow of my remorse...thorn in my side...blade under me...the chances have ruffled betwe... [more]