What shifting, what scuddling,
peeping, muffle sounded and
slow doom--
These rats inside the walls,
hungry like winds and eroding us
to silent and pale sepulchre
dwellers in the coming night.
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Across Inconstant Breath
Would that this skin this frail armor atop the husk of slow departure - Would that it held against the teeth of night's maw a...
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(in honor of the apparently, partially visible periods I use to alter spacing) The suggestions of gravity ...... Are sometimes taken and... ...
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Prove this with your science, Hercules, you with your trials and madness, soaked in the blood of the vanquished. Prove this with your scienc...
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The shapes of animals move against her skin in the dim light, the forest reaching out to touch the essence, sick with need like I was then, ...
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