seether
my poetic imaginations of psychic immolation
Posted at 12pm on 03/05/09 | 2 comments | Filed Under: health, hope, insurrrrrreance, nonfiction, poisons read on
to lucha, with love
i’m a fly in the blouse of god. i’m a flake of fishscale in the house of nod. i’m a deep sleeping sprout that she snuck in the soil just before the weedkiller saturated the sod.
(Also see here.)
