[choose your own adventure]
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| once upon a time, when the sunrise spread beaver on its blades towards a medieval gilgamesh, we were there begging alms | not another vampire pop-culture reference, slaughtered to the quick | detournmont: the open scope of god's wounds (zounds!) burning piss flung into a whittled night |
"go for it" |
the white woman couldn't hold a candle drilling into that verse, lesbos laid pure on the waters, when the spartan amazoness carved a purse between those pulsing fingers |
never of the children, piercing holes in the sky letter by letter, breathing gentle notes of color |
as she neared the precipice, host of angels flew at her, bloodhungry and swimming of aporia |
the end. |
