

I did spend timeI did spend time throwing my body over couches, sighing deep from the bellyI did spend time
to sad music and murky martinis. I was so heavy I would crash land at the bottom of long-necked bottles with red stained lips.
But I have finished that crying now. I'm standing, whole, in heels, somehow. Calloused and glittering. Living. Thing. And I'm feeling rather cat-like down here off the wing.
Devils have romanced angels since the beginning of time, charmed them stark raving naked in organized crime, and they've all gone tumbling down, skirts in the air


more or lessYou will wake up in a purple dress with one stiletto dangling off the bed. The hangover is not quite as guilty without the boxers on the floor. The custom is to wake up earlier than boxer boymore or less
or brief, (depending on the club, more or less) and to venture to the kitchen. You dont mean to wake up so early, but somehow you cannot stop thinking, planning your morning greeting (It gets easier


Coney IslandOn saltine beaches, the leaches wriggle, and the seagulls shriek through gum-stuck beaks.Coney Island
3 whales beached over night.
In the feverheat of day, flies pick at their barnacles: An exotic delicacy
for the shit-eaters.


Up the Skirt of a MushroomThere is a hunger in my guts for things far too back in time to grasp, gyrate against and say I love you I love you over it like a watering can to sunglass-eyed daisies.Up the Skirt of a Mushroom
Instead I will tread (showing lots of leg) in lukewarm fields of screw-eyed susans
and try to work up an appetite.
by `CrisVector
by =rache-engel
P.S. Sorry for my late reply
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