Photo reblogged from my only friend. with 5 notes
Directly from the world of exquisite dreams.
Source: swasticake
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Forgotten, that devil eyed grin, the hair clenching murmuring on the sofa, the light light of the television as our eyes focused on each other, as our eyes tasted the skeletal secrets buried beneath our vulnerable flesh, lips tearing lips, thrust and hip into the warm, welcoming tide between thighs. Instead, the amnesia of darkness, that’s my cup of tea baby. Shut up, sit down, strap on, fuck the future. There’s enough of that in the past, we can read about it in books. Watch movies? Why would I do something so inane. Let me sip the gods’ nectar, I’d rather feel the dissolution of alcohol, the recrudesce of ancient maladies, the abasement of the ocean and the laughing wounds of departure. Nothing. We can only die so much before we stop caring. Moths land on the dark flowers of our skulls. I’d kiss the lightning if I could. Let’s forget the gravity of sound, the fluttering of promises, which vanish in the wind like petals on crape myrtles. The ocean’s vast. Dive-bomb. Pitch black.
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