you and i should get lost.

we'll find a forest, dark and deep. with trees of ancient twine. like the demons of the night, their branches will scathe us and scratch us. and their leaves will fall, slicing our cold skin like a million paper cuts. and the flies. oh, the insects. how they will love our crimson blood. sweet and rusty with iron. they will ( Read more... )

One. Dowsing of the own ardor.

I apprehend nothing of this world, this universe that would not indulge me for it has left me high and dry by the pursuit of the fleeting. Nothing of this universe bears anything close to the karmic make-up of me, nothing, indeed. Day in, day out, every moment, any time, I hear nothing which carries the scanty ( Read more... )