(no subject)

[notwalking]

Cold worlds shake from the oar.
The spirit of blackness is in us, it is in the fishes.
A snag is lifting a valedictory, pale hand;

Stars open among the lilies.
Are you not blinded by such expressionless sirens?
This is the silence of astounded souls.


Alright, who wants to go first. Do your worst. I don't care.

Comments

[notwalking]

Something like that.