Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Corpses

the dark is loaded.
what appears is full of young women, bikers and spiders.
carpets of white powder.
it is all on fire.
a flaming invisible with smoke you can only smell.
no heat.
but still it burns, cooks meat, fat and thought.
there is no malice in this place.
it is not a mystery, it is not a dream.
it is where i am forced undead and leave the cold and my ignorance behind.
it is where i run with corpses who i know love me.
it is for these dead, still with me, that i do all i do.

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