Corks were popped off, and champagne covered a crowd of enthusiasts.
Kisses were exchanged, if not stolen.
And I felt the winds of change shake every inch of earth.
This will be a year to remember.


The West-end Cemetery GangA murder of crows swarmed the field. Ducking low, searching for new forms of torment. Silence to stir, dainty what’s-its to chase, A daily routine.The West-end Cemetery Gang
They perched on written stones, Fanning their wings and spreading grief.
They had come here many times before,
Tipping vases and shitting on memories. The significance of the dead drew them here. The West-end cemetery gang, Eager to stir the peace of the woeful and resting.


Pop-up Book TortureThe entire hallway collapsed from vision. You felt a new sensation, A heart-wrenching suspense like no other. Your world became a tiny pop-up book, And you were a mere cardboard character, Folding on command.Pop-up Book Torture
There you paced in front of the door, Desperately listening for mumbled answers. A yes or no was all that was needed, Perhaps a relieving nod or frown.
But everything was carefully discussed, No details were spared.
This could be a newfound torment, Worse that playground whisperings Or a chair of spikes.
To wait is to b


Goodbye SummerThe air was momentarily soft. She felt it chill her spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. Earlier, the day was hot and thick. Full of an August youthfulness she wouldn’t let go. Dried leaves scattered the grass,Goodbye Summer
But the summer girls marched on. Swimming pools were filled with their cleavage and competition. Love was sucked off a wooden Popsicle stick. Watched, licked, tossed.
May she win their hearts through their visual interpretations and hopes.
The days were shorter, And she realized her time was running out.
So foolishly, she chased her dreams into an empty lake.


Dab with your NapkinA modern Othello sat admiring his newfound Desdemona. She sat two tables away from him, to the right of the café entrance. She sipped her latte and stared at the front of her menu Using her x-ray vision. She was probably starved. He lifted his herbal tea and drank it slowly.Dab with your Napkin
Letting it sit between each sip until it was completely still. He was very good at forcing his fate And often remarked on his own mystery.
The ceiling fan sliced through his thoughts As they vacated his eyes and ears.
It was a tragic choice, This “Desdemona” muse of his. For she would never f
I think you're dissappeared.
--
As you can see, my friend, there is far more to this than what you can see, unless you look just a little bit deeper.
--
"Who tells u not to part from the herd? The wolf or the herd ?"
What makes you perfect for me ? Your flaws.
For More.
--
"Who tells u not to part from the herd? The wolf or the herd ?"
What makes you perfect for me ? Your flaws.
For More.
<3
--
"Art is art. Everything else is everything else."
Check out my new ID: [link]
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