(no subject)

[rozsecrets]

"then turning to my love, I said,
'the dead are dancing with the dead,
the dust is whirling with the dust.'

but she- she heard the violin,
And left my side and entered in,
Love past the house of lust.

Then suddenly the tune went false,
the dancers wearied of the waltz..."

- Oscar Wilde
"the Harlot's House"

Momentary lapse of reasons created by copious amounts of booze. Here's to Eugene O'Neill and a good play.... *hic*

long nights homework into day..............
todays theme: disintegration