Saturday, 12 April 2014

Somatose Estates And The Skin Of My Teeth

It Is That Below,
SomeWhere My Shapelessness Directs InTo Form,
Arriveing At The Fringes Of Bent Light To Where Ten Seconds Break,
Behind Blood Pulsateing InTo Woven Lineage,
As Time Crafts A Fleshless Escape Towards Another Mother's Tongue,
And It Clings With A Senseless Instinct For A Breath Beyond Taste,
Fraying The Cords That Suspend...
...
And Yet,
It Is That Belonging...
...
Somatose And Sculpted Precedeing A Possessive Nature,
Alive As An Offering InTo A Different Slight Of Forge-Wroughten Conditions,
Before Bone Crushed And Ground For An Unraveling River,
As A Seed Of Archetype To Where I Was Once Only ALone To Speak,
And It Lingers While An EndLess Obsession For All That Gives And Takes,
Knotting The Words That Settle...
...
And Yes...
...
...
It Is That.






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