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Feast of the dead worms
April 1, 2014
1. A kiss of fire dances upon my lips, reincarnating the iron chain that once held my mind inside a headlock. It spoke to me in the language of an action, creating eruptions of darkness throughout the inside of my body. In it's native tongue it uttered a bellowing whisper that could be translated to 'This is what you ask for, this is who you are'.
2. They called me in a dream, singing siren songs detailing a story about a beautiful void. Turning my sore moments into hours of pleasure and bearing the gift of enslavement and the cost of my life
© Joseph S., San Anselmo, CA
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