Hymn to Broken Idols
Visit Apocalypse Illustrated
Celtic Radio and the Fourth Dimension
apocalupsis
Though the world keeps turning fast as a whip My heart slackens and wobbles; Blood trickles and sifts Tsunami recoils Quickening pulse To snap her fist. Narcissus Retiring not skulking away, at last retreat From the feathery grasses silkily sliding in aquafingers’ grasp.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
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