Trompé Setsuled (setsuled) wrote,
Trompé Setsuled

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My hands are a bit cold

Sitting here. Thinking about all sorts of possibilities.

Hmmm . . .


Circulation's a story
All by itself
Some trolls only make you think
They've turned to stone

Crouching in the brush
Your assassin awaits
He's perfectly there
For you

A man can turn to stone
But men are always a sea
In which a woman can drown
So why tie yourself

To a stone dearie
Eyes that do not blink
Prisoner of his organs
Dropped fizzling in the water

Skies can peel a billion times
And there's always more for it to bleed
Your stomach can explode
And still you can suckle

Sky blood sprays into
Empty cavity spurting
Hissing like a tea kettle
Snapping like a sycamore


Now I'd better go off and do something. It's not quite as easy getting out of the house without a car. When I couldn't reach trisa last night, and I couldn't reach Magious, I walked around Santee until I reached the Starbucks and read an Angela Carter book that Marty let me borrow. An interesting read so far I must say.

After that I took a risk and walked all the way to Magious's house and was fortunate enough to find he was at home. I was double fortunate when he agreed that going to the mall was a good idea. And at the mall, he purchased the expansion pack for Morrowind which, of course, means my soul has been eaten away just a little more. But that's okay . . .
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