1 Poetry

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ButcherBelial
ButcherBelial 25 Mar 2016 Tag: Confessional

A Old Hand

Blue & blasphemous, ubiquitous coil- the Lights are on and sometimes I’m home (unlit cigarette asleep between my fingers) all caught-up on the cry in my thistledown throat, all sepia-tinged with a crimson snake like a skin.flick crouching...

ButcherBelial
ButcherBelial 02 Feb 2012 Tag: Confessional

A See How They Run

Early fire & rise… morning sizzle... a warmed up & chilled out flowering first, I am a walk (more like a run) through the night... & I have forsaken sweet for a kiss of bite, a zephyr frozen spear of time & truth can spit the heart like a space of wavering ~daze~ can smack...

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