

Motion SicknessWake cannibal, stir to dawn.Motion Sickness
Open space suffocates the limbs to plum fiction.
Lash me with psalms,
read swollen by the friction
of palm lines against my cheek.
Sell me magic sex money
that falls out loud
for naked diplomatic
negotiations.
Where motion ends the brightest rays
are buried below
the deepest shadows.
Blood author
molesting the dead white ink and dye from bleached black wombs called hearts.


Luna de sombraThere is a vicious speciesLuna de sombra
of ivy that consumes intravenously the bodies of others.
Its long fingers crawl across graves the silent stalking, the seeking of prey.
It's roots are too quick for veins
and run deep until they split open
leaving only carbon-calcium remains.
At intervals its pearl blossoms
peel shades from the moon.
A species that learned to read the shallow pale translations on stone cut names.
by Sean Ahern
*returns the favor*
--
...I want to die the way I was born: naked, screaming, and covered in someone else's blood...
--
"Work Fight and Win as One" Rangers
Now taking commissions [link]
--
"Work Fight and Win as One" Rangers
Now taking commissions [link]
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