iqmagi

You know who you are... you who art precious, and you who art loved. A pale kiss falls from the disemboweled edge. The abomonation of my heart burns with such rage! The blue crest that swallows clean the very breath of these sad eyes, that weep, weeping always in miserly fear...I am dead. A society that begins in the brain, uprooting trees as it passes idly around each bend. I am a ghost. The way light disperses upon the cobble road.