Contacting Equivalence
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Sunday, December 27, 2009

Moths (rather unfinished)

Current mood: piss off my mood is vastly irrelevant

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don't get your hopes up high
the smiles will break your spine
as you flapper around the sun
your wings alight

in agonizing beauty
sugar white demise
coffins closing tightly
keep your hands inside

so don't get your hopes up high
the eyes will drown your mind

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wat etc...my head hurts and the slender slit between the curtains reveals too much of the outside world. The tiny beam of light shining through is intricate though; I cannot refrain from observing how it dances across the ceiling. 

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