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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-06-23 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
"I have murdered the nightingale", whispered the shadow
and the middle class midgets started making love beneath the mechanical shroud the rubber child proved to be less experienced than the senior members of the committee so they decided to borrow his limbs for the private slideshow “cut him in half”, whispered the moth “let’s sell the jangled corpse and get as rich as raisins” the daffodils denied him the opium ladder they threw him into the rainbow and then, they left for the summer scattered body parts rained down on each and every one of us and I can still taste the menstrual mulberry that was planted on my door for aesthetical justifications of course your vagina melts like a candle each time I hide in your silken wound let us trade the vampire, sell it’s crooked arm then fall in love again like we used to do
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