Monday 21 January 2008

Notebook 023

A Sonatary Precipice
Journal Entry: Fri Jan 27, 2006, 12:35 AM


I would like to thickly ravish the burnt out seams of your moth-bitten tapestry. Colloquial and somber, the moods approach. with bated hands cracked skin breath they distinguish laxative syllables from the membrane of third seasons. "take away what may you." (The coolest kids always were the loneliest). In broken parables and phrases of rhetoric the languid emotions swept between and beneath, until all but dust was coughing in arteries. "arisen in slander, be ye forgotten for sanitatious contractions." All was said and all was poured. Glasses empty and rich of deliverance, the halls echoed automation, for dawn is a-cogging, closer and closer. Warmth, moss and air to suffocate. asleep, we lay upon dreams. Ready for the night to wallow our palladium.

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