29 July 2012

Counting stairs.

Snakes at my heels.

Kissing life on the lips.

Sealing the deal.

Eyes cold turning to stone.

Both directions leading home.

Paid in full.

Filling my glass.

Special powers, the blackest flowers.

Blooming, consuming.

Vibrant colors to fool me.

Pulling me in, inviting me to a poisoned tea party.

Your fee:

A single sincerity.

candyland_massacreStaircases Leading Nowhere • Opuss № I