athena returns the fire to prometheus
By aiwaz
echos from the flat grey horizon, dead waters to my breast cold wind of light subtracting reverberations of memories drowned within- rain like a thousand knives black upon black upon black again you hold up yr hand and the wind stops within- upon this chessboard land of blackest night and crulest white deep alchemy of thoughts receeding like acid searing these little fragile fortresses of that which holds me within- skin is too thin to keep out this world flesh is too weak to break these binds the birds gnaw my liver each today so that i may begin again. Written February 6th, 2002 © on Feb 06 2002 07:01 AM PST 0 • 10
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"echos from the flat grey horizon,..."