The devil I know
is a fat man in the white city.
He's got bloody fists,
my red, my blue.
For granted, the leer on his face,
for granite. Stone, chiseled and frozen in time,
like a gravestone, but more alive.
He knows every corner in the temple.
Every altar that ever dripped from sacrifice.

06/09/2005

Posted on 06/13/2005
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