

State FairI wander beneath the tent full of doves; speckled, white, gray; stupid and beautiful, beady-eyed with the scrawl of the bright host within their kin wings. Slim necks arched with dumb pride, their nude feet half-covered with cedar and shit, they stand still in their cages, servants of instinct. There is nothing left to wonder of caged creatures, arranged in rows on tables at a state fair that busks and bustles with the overpriced.State Fair
The next tent was worse: cows, tethered to poles, aswain upon hay, their flesh hanging off their bones heavily. The eyes of a cow are li


A Timeless CertaintyA Timeless CertaintyA Timeless Certainty
1. He told me that he felt as though he lived before,
and would die as soon as he remembered
when he was alive and who he was.
I could tell you who you are. I can tell you that I ground your bones into dust and blew them into the Nile.
I know you in blood. Your smell has never changed. I brushed by you in a crowd in Constantinople and remembered until I died.
I once poisoned you when Elizabeth was queen. I put ink in your heart.
I buttoned your coat when you left for the war.
2. I listen to the wate


Murderous MaryCircuses: the rich smell of dung, colors faded fromMurderous Mary
travel on pinwheel painted wagons, the obvious folly of clowns,
and the bold absurdity of dog-and-pony shows in an age
where man hung man in one nation. Behind the gilded façade,
there were ashen corpses of the immigrants,
bodies brokered and sold; wealth measured in hot pumping blood. An elephant balancing on a ball in a black and white picture,
its top-hatted trainer standing beside it with proud open arms,
a big smile. The trunk curves in the most exquisite of frowns. &


25 Cent RhinestoneThis is how I sleep: on my left side, a pillow between my legs. Three loves, dipped in old bathwater and Hippocrene, - the one I shouldn't, the one I should, and the one I should've, and their faces and a memory of each one in my room bloom from the synaptic patterns I learned from touching their jaws and chests in the dark, from their telephones at their preferred hours - 3 AM, 3 PM, 11 PM. Hours that their ghosts drip, drip on now, keeping me wet. All those years crammed into one jewelry box for each of them; things I never wear anymore, save when I sleep, in the ornamented festoons and expired pageantry of old silver and gold loves reduced25 Cent Rhinestone
Devious Comments
A writer on dA? Awesome, you don't see them often enough around here.
Watch'd.
- PB
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Tis too much proved that with devotion's visage and pious action we do sugar o'er The devil himself.
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"Guns for show, knives for a pro."
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Normality is what cuts off your sixth finger and your tail.
Come visit! [link]
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Support The Arts. Or Else.
Know Thyself.
*VisualLit Writers and Artists, Unite! ...or at least Collaborate!
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I defeated LadyHisoka in a battle of logics and I won a Honourary Block from her page! I must be such a lousier!
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Kender Kisses!
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Best Friend - *SydneyPrimal
Sister - *Driven-Crazy
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Live despite the world around you, not because of it.
~AikoAndHiroAddicts
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