Lower Dens
Plastic & Powder
His head is shaved.His tongue is on his lips.From the purse in his hand comes an oft-welcomed gift which, In hindsight, Had I been wise,Would not have received so willingly.Oh,These birds never stop.They just keep flapping a thousand putrid wings infinitely.What if my tongue curls up?What if my skin sloughs off?What will the vanguard think of me and my pedigree?Will they ever climb down?
From Letras Mania