10.24.2011

poetic license

hot tears flow as a rushing stream.
she jerks like waking from a dream,
glossy gleamed eyes, wet with rage,
turn hard against who waits for her
in chapter six. her muse can't lure
fraught demon purrs from each page.

8 comments:

  1. "glossy gleamed eyes, wet with rage,
    turn hard"

    love that.

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  2. thanks! love grace and her damn welsh forms.
    well okay, i *like* the welsh forms. watch this space for more of this one!

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  3. mmm. this reminds me of a mumford&sons song. i can feel it in my bones.

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  4. i just mean, it could be - it reminds me of the intensity of their lyrics and the movement. :)

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  5. people have been telling me to listen to them and i have yet to do it. so i better, is what i am hearing from you!
    thanks for that. and for reading, too. xo

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