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A more abstract piece about emotions in culture. Credit to Nietzsche as inspiration. |
| Vagrant hound dies of exposure. Peach lips gently hugging the sky and dreams hang as baubles on cream antlers of those stags whom canter among gentle beds of amber sweets from volumes of fables older than salted nouns that saw depths of molded wells on ancient hills dripping languidly with the molten thoughts of gods decomposed without any of that humane love treasured in the gilded vaults underground and who’s lips are these? Some forsaken mutation? Such betrayal on the petals of this continent. How could you, darling? Lost doves loop around a barren earth sodden with molasses casted by the contrite and coffee hymns test regurgitation. Squawk anon squawk anon anon. Eve |