Night was descending on the tonsured heads, terracotta robes, clasping the palms, hiding the seeds of earth.
Against a ban on lips for belonging truly. Blissful. The squids settle in the weeds of overbrimming sea of arms.
Blood was red, brown and pale. oozing from the slit eyes, soaking the green voices, herbs and sad kisses. In the death, your name will be engraved on your shoes.
The steps were small but shadows were very long on the ice. The stings unflawed, did their job. Suddenly you go in anaphylactic shock.
