Antique Hidden TreasuresA key turned in a lock, rust creeps from hole to hand - cracks splinter from wrist to floor.Antique Hidden Treasures
They both fit? Although these doors shriek? Tongues shudder and pump lead - metallic heat, feverish, loving; winding themselves through leg and arm, held cold, immobile - against what?
Blinking in unison, thousands of lashes, feathery frames malting like dandelion seeds, rendering my lungs opaque,
clogged with breathy wishes.
The unnerving flick of identical irises rinsing themselves over each limb, bones click; eyes in the walls, ears twist
--
live.laugh.love.
--
"I see an Inspiration in my Dream"
(sory my english not good)
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