Mixed in with dirt and spit, I made mortar from the mix. Build these castle walls a little higher and keep myself from falling out. — Spitting divinity upon Mans tongue, losing yourself on the thought, not savouring the taste of power. This is the price we pay, toiling in gardens we don’t own. It…
Month: June 2019
Mustard seed and adders tongue an empty crown and displaced lungs We can boil and thrash, as you like, this mess of thoughts won’t dissolve. Don’t forget that what’s to come hasn’t come yet Coil around, and I’ll do the same. Wings, black as sin, and Scales glinting away.