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Literature Text
...Place your thoughts in the butterfly's lap, let the dusty wings caress your overwhelmed eyes.
Drink the fattened September in its graceful, ripe smell;
hear the pears rotting, screaming your holy name, kiss sunsets and hug the statues of deities resting on the maggoty ground.
Grind the milk into clouds and then let the hysterical masses devour the unexpected snow.
Lie next to us, twelve hundred feet under the Earth's core. Guide our misinterpreted energies. Let us take your eyes - the Butterfly would want us to have those images he blessed you with...
Drink the fattened September in its graceful, ripe smell;
hear the pears rotting, screaming your holy name, kiss sunsets and hug the statues of deities resting on the maggoty ground.
Grind the milk into clouds and then let the hysterical masses devour the unexpected snow.
Lie next to us, twelve hundred feet under the Earth's core. Guide our misinterpreted energies. Let us take your eyes - the Butterfly would want us to have those images he blessed you with...
~The Butterfly Cult people cut out someone's eyes.
(I had some difficulties deciding which category this falls under.
definitely not poetry, yet, too short for prose.)
(I had some difficulties deciding which category this falls under.
definitely not poetry, yet, too short for prose.)
© 2010 - 2024 Sjemenka
Comments16
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wtfly pre... patim na kombinacije kritera koji su nesposobni nanjet štetu, a u fikciji dobe neproporcionalne moći... katanafly is waiting 4 your duplje