sickness seeps inbetween the branches of skeletal trees.
so swallows and specters float
hither and tither in the weeping willows who whisper please please,

let me be. let me be. so just let me be.

jawless swine,
decorticated by an angelic whisper,

are swallowed in emerald smiles, in sunken eyes, in the thicket of sinister shadows. so i know where the silence goes.
so dead dance with the dead.
they prevaricate.

bloodied tongues whip the air to mouth in a tasteless phrase:
i exist for defilement and defiling so it goes.

anthropomorphic, skeletal trees, in january. in february. in june.

bloodied tongues fashion the air into a tasteless phrase, i exist to fuck.

so sickness seeps under the skin of a heart once bathed in the passive power of the truth. weeping willows whisper softly, in a distant care.

so it goes.
so it goes.