|
|
|
ACID BATH
WHEN THE KITE STRING THE POPE |
|
| |
|
| | Reviews: 60 |
|
| Average Rating: 9.73 |
|
Random Review:
| |
|
What Color is Death
The shade of an ice pick sinking into flesh sex-n-sex-n-sex-n-
death I don't want you I want your flesh close my eyes and
dream of death slip away and take a breath rivers running dark
and cool how can nothingness be cruel? Trip with me and meet
the sun this orgasm of light suck the world inside yourself
spitting forth the night I listen to the trees they hum and
hold hands with the moon insects whisper sweet nothings the
solar system blooms the skulls of babies grow within the gar-
den of the soul where the girls run barefoot and all life
lives uncontrolled come on baby let's kick back and bleed with
me awhile never mind the cold black truth that stains the
kitchen tile
|
