A rock within a shell encased, lifeless and stilled. Heavier than most, despite the wear and attrition. Stone, cold and caged within. Deliberately chilled. Once, in another’s hand, cast aside like spent ammunition. Collaterally damaged, withdrawn from further crusade. Surrendered, with all purpose depleted. Buried, without ceremony, in an unmarked grave. Love and life defeated.
Hoisting the bisexuality on a figurine, I crawl back to anxiety. The primitive instinct was taking over the stitches on a snake. What do you want from a moon for the drooling mouth of a seashell? Braiding the breasts against
The need of the hour is peace As the consequences of war are not like breeze Countries are grouping, so are the citizens Unity is strengthening, but, against other unions Deployment takes place to deplore another state The death of
At evenings, Sun puts off her light as usual and goes behind a curtain woven by sea, rock and trees, so to have a break. Meanwhile, those with black heads and scattered hair go to warm themselves at the ember