I am looking into the eyes before my thoughts and plead, utter, thank you'se for the comments.
Thank you.
Wednesday
Monday
Wednesday
What have you done?
Have you been toying with my perceptions of sleep and dreams or have I set my chin in want upon your be dragged cloak's fray? Don't I know when you've summoned your urge to kneel upon my dust, upon my suet, bruised, marked and spilt by our tracks you sit and contemplate me. What have you done to born that rasp of breath as I question this rave of swipes curbed to support my rest.
Sunday
Who out there noticed here?
Who out there notices that I have reached in here with my cursive fortunes and laid all I am among it's glare, no one dares mind. Manacled lace of sneers, he too often hopes a show of me, ragged over it's palm and nails, pinch gripped and synched, useless to a fangs-tyne, but all the same, note his molar's shuffle. The dragon cares for every bone broken, now does he not?
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