Thursday, 2 July 2015

A Little Water To Rise Above High Brows

The Machine Loosens Its Teeth On Habit,
Parts Gyrating InTo StainLess ClockWork And Burning Ethereal,
Ozone Melts At Its Edges Near Eternal Meshing,
All This Is The Flesh On Its Bones... It'll Make You Wonder...
...
Where Does The Wind Blow From?
...
...
Cold Snap Lightning-Quick,
A Subtle Twist In Time Here And There,
An Integrate... Snapping InTo A Life Of Dampness and Skin,
Stareing For What Was Lost In The Rain...
...
NoThing Less.




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