Home   Home

of the fall

by Johnny Crimson

Pet the Indian fever that beats its chest
and breathes heavenly breaths
high into the hills.

Pet it with your throat.

Set the sights and click your jaw
twice for "more"
once for "lets sleep."
Relive in the after world of silence
and dissolution.

We swam in blue puddles that
bleached our skin
and the dye seeped through our hearts
and past our humanity.

Past our illusion of faith
and the ruling figures of the sky.
Past the horned beast that may or may not walk among
us.

We needn't care who see us now.
Let us fuck into eternity
without worry or defeat or shame.
With your blue skin on mine,
nothing more will matter.

Now if I can only get you to read this.


10/22/2009

Posted on 10/23/2009
Copyright © 2025 Johnny Crimson

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2025 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)