as the sun sets, blindly,
he comes,
hooves like iron
hammering holes in pavement,
one three five
all set to sate him,
each house the same,
each house the same.
trying on a metaphor
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@heksenhaus
as the sun sets, blindly,
he comes,
hooves like iron
hammering holes in pavement,
one three five
all set to sate him,
each house the same,
each house the same.
the cat sleeps and the rain falls and i can, if only for the briefest of moments, enjoy the respite.
shadows may be unreal, yet, they still have so much weight that we bear in silence.
'i wanna be yr friend.'
you lick yr lips with contagious abandon, wires, black+red, slick with motor oil, bits of cheap latex beneath broken fingernails. (and you remember crawling up the pylons, the city bright beneath you.)
true manumission can only come with the abolition of all prisons.
i see bright green environmentalism through the same lens as luddism: technology should be used only to both better our lives and lessen our destructive impact on the world.
THERE CAN BE NO NOTHING, NEVER.
as water falls against the teeth, my skin blooms with inflammation, new topographies, new shades of red.
we mustn't imagine sisyphus, happy or otherwise.
let it all be done, or at least let us be done with it.
she said she always dreamed in sepia and laughed until she cried, wheezing, when i believed her (it's a metaphor, silly, she said but there was something about it all that always made me wonder.)
i have seen the first assassins of spring, not yet ready to leave alamut, and the frogs have begun their nightly chorus.
(but it's all too warm far too early and that worries me.)
we are all prophets of no house, no quarter.