#1
we
carved our names into the stream
with an obsidian arrow head

taped to my finger
i would cut soul cold cuts
in our queen bed asleep
i would talk silk cloth
delphi oracle to the cockroaches in the walls

who would stop, listen
to waterfalls in a clearing,
at the base of mt. meru

a little girl again, wrists bound,
crouched,
pissing,
new nipples tweaked by a nine-tails,
god knowing that in a few years blood rivers will be milk
streams
we carved our names into
with an obsidian arrow head

taped to my finger
Last edited by #1 synth at Dec 22, 2011,
#2
Strong imagery and a nice flow. It's nice to read something less indulgent and more reflective.
not going viral


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#3
mmmmm
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