web caught strugglings bloodied with obsessive care. nerves everywhere... nerves and dutied thinking silence. pale eyes staring, telling faults like rosary beads, one by trapped one. but for an instant's darkness lashes hood reality, she cannot see the lounge of limbs in perfect sprawl coiled loose on a bed not of nails but pin-prick words, slicing, endlessly enticing, with scapellike tools faintly pinked diagnals. she's hiding hurt with blankets of pain; the image in perfect reversal and more beautiful and finely redded (as venom) for all it's illusory real. it's free, unlike she locked to the roving movement of his design. now, loud the sound surrounding a dry quiet of a drawn line. and her eyes open to deception no longer obeying loves own acceleration.
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Updated Thursday, 04-Mar-2004 14:58:28 PST