poised upon tired old metaphors alluding to the cruelty inherent in your every kiss dilated, reaching for those blue-eyed cells. sweat lamps ask for time out of breath silver with fear, conflating tassels with talking drum patterns scorched into the very heat of night. two names working feverishly to repair the pet labia absorbed in the irate moods of a quiet sea this evening. with sudden bursts of ennui to sop at news of a torrid affair unafraid to become diffuse and splash tears of joy powered by numinous wings of silk, frayed but alive with the black gaze of a scorpion not even fit to travel alone in public without love bloodying willing mouths to moth sadness at evolution stripping the sun of charred, broken designs that echo with the supreme elegance of your own dark magic.
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