(no subject)
then i wanted to be a poet, but i didn't have the time.
in the sewers beneath niflheim, preta-moans like a woman for her demon lover, the trap sprung and the bolt latched not long ago but too long to remember when. my desire exceeds yours or yours or yours because it neglects the tangible wholly, rising above the aerosol fog and staring at the sun. fire beating into my eyes draws water, and so tall, my knees teeter. if i can't have you, nobody will. winter, keep me warm.
esoteric iconoclast. you're so exotic, quixotic. i'd like to hold you in the palm of my hand.
sehnsucht. gesundheit!
in the sewers beneath niflheim, preta-moans like a woman for her demon lover, the trap sprung and the bolt latched not long ago but too long to remember when. my desire exceeds yours or yours or yours because it neglects the tangible wholly, rising above the aerosol fog and staring at the sun. fire beating into my eyes draws water, and so tall, my knees teeter. if i can't have you, nobody will. winter, keep me warm.
esoteric iconoclast. you're so exotic, quixotic. i'd like to hold you in the palm of my hand.
sehnsucht. gesundheit!