Attempt 1:
Punished. Purified. Panther. Haunting. Re-embrace. Forgotten. Daffodils. Drinking. Terra cotta. Soaked. Tapioca.
Attempt 2:
Where are colorful sappy words…in a river of rotting flesh? Who is praying, lost, and uncertain – with circling greedy flies? Are sinful saints singing? We drop in the eve, on our knees, shoving fist full’s of moist earth into our ocular cavities. Such music, truth. Spoon fed scornful fantasies. Precious jewels, like rain drops, pure, collected in a lead can.
Attempt 3:
Amorous bodies dance with naked nymphs. Sultry kittens masked under moonlight beg for candy. Dish. Dish. Dish. Empty silver bowls, lonely under orange street lights. Masked little boys have frightened them away. I wash memories of their haunts. Drink some bleach to wash filthy innards. Follow darkness, until I don’t feel like it anymore. Blanket. Sleep.
By Panganga and Forest
Punished. Purified. Panther. Haunting. Re-embrace. Forgotten. Daffodils. Drinking. Terra cotta. Soaked. Tapioca.
Attempt 2:
Where are colorful sappy words…in a river of rotting flesh? Who is praying, lost, and uncertain – with circling greedy flies? Are sinful saints singing? We drop in the eve, on our knees, shoving fist full’s of moist earth into our ocular cavities. Such music, truth. Spoon fed scornful fantasies. Precious jewels, like rain drops, pure, collected in a lead can.
Attempt 3:
Amorous bodies dance with naked nymphs. Sultry kittens masked under moonlight beg for candy. Dish. Dish. Dish. Empty silver bowls, lonely under orange street lights. Masked little boys have frightened them away. I wash memories of their haunts. Drink some bleach to wash filthy innards. Follow darkness, until I don’t feel like it anymore. Blanket. Sleep.
By Panganga and Forest
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