that fang and broadness of chest
the swiftness of run in the blackness
there were births washed
in the grief of your death
just born searching through
lifetimes
we're all here now
there was some shit needed clearing
a plantation, an ill minded guardian of the watch
the fucking priests
the demented lord
the wastrel and those hordes of
demons imbibed
tobacco given as ransom
one time my lungs
burned sacrifice into stone runneling charms
now is probably really good
the night is restless
take all the time you want
what's free can't be stolen anyway
man being in the image of
and myself the beloved oneness
putting on lipstick
and kissing paper with a smile
whistle past the deathyard ghosts with me
About the Creator
susan marie loehe
everything is Art, Art is Everything.
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