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Post by SickbedPoet on Apr 1, 2004 20:53:09 GMT -5
First Day
Pure hazel and- is it the truth I weep that turns you sour? I was meandering toward discussion of eyes.
Perhaps this seems trite and almost vulgar to someone such as yourself, veins swelling with ichor, the word you use for sickly and tame human blood.
I am reminded too soon that you were in throes, hothead that you always were, pronouncing brimstone and obscurity for all my cherished names
To litanize these names would be as foolish as dignifying your habits and abuses, declaring them "foibles" and "remediable". In fact, you are at heart worm-wasted
your organs and the webbing in which they suspend gladly leaking their force and powers as your life collects at your feet putrefied and danced in by vermin.
Ah! It seems you are coyly coming around to sense and humanity. We have vast and historic things to do! Shall we begin? Or were we still battling over eye color, hazel perhaps?
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Post by Alecto on Apr 2, 2004 13:17:09 GMT -5
Reading this poem makes me picture someone with their eyes gouged out
Yes, I have a very twisted mind
I like your writing style though
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Post by SickbedPoet on Apr 2, 2004 19:15:28 GMT -5
Thank you!
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Post by Alecto on Apr 2, 2004 20:04:25 GMT -5
You're welcome!
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