Thursday, November 01, 2012

November's Mutability Mutes None

1. Every cock a stiletto shining death down dark corridors

2. Life is mutiny. So beautifully futile a rebellion it overcomes oblivion each moment

3. November's the cruelest month. Trees shed habits of green, plucked naked by cold hands.

4. Let hair spill endless o'er ivory shoulders and delight Nyx in abandoned measure. 

No comments: