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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in The imPersonal Space of rws

half-life

~for the haunted~
 
she wore long sleeves
to hide the scars
swimming
just beneath her skin...

melodies pulsing
in brackish bone
silently caressed
her lips...

hell isn't at all
what I imagined
I've rented rooms
round here before

 
I have a key
but something's missing
I wonder where the fire is?
Sinnaminsun - on Jul. 8 2009

I really like your first stanza, your analogies are great.  


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