Titian Grail

Jan 23, 2006 13:26

Icy distant frazz-pop whips
break down apart the kiss-frog lips
where princes fuck the feelings full
and princess daisies' thoughts of wool
go fleeing frolic into hell,
the place where needles come to spell
the words of blaming bashed and fell
of days that cracked in solace.

The trees that sway upon the hills
like silhouettes all frayed and still
gone to the fair with amber gall
kites caught amongst the china wall
high into frozen states alike
the dawning times that show their light
our ears that burn with distant fright
ripped sorely limb from limb.


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