Some muse in stitching
and bloody fingers
you have become
even while I die inside
even while I lose my mythology
and the elfish turn their backs
you slither into the folds of my brain
edge me to sleep
if I could but pluck your eyes
bind your wrists
whisper wait for me
on your knees.
TA
and bloody fingers
you have become
even while I die inside
even while I lose my mythology
and the elfish turn their backs
you slither into the folds of my brain
edge me to sleep
if I could but pluck your eyes
bind your wrists
whisper wait for me
on your knees.
TA
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