We are a clan of stoic beings
Even our tears glow of mercury
A wolf runs in our screams
Stone lips and hearts
Only she truly feels
She is the tree rustling like the rain
The river alone like an orphan
Cut with our machetes,
Bruised with our footsteps
She falls into a coma
White, bitter, deathlike
Until we resurrect her as if our saviour
With slaughtering hands
Hands that end in the wrong places
In her violet lips, mountain breasts
She walks toward death, with narcotics
Of sodium and sulphur
Only her soul the sun,
Our hands will never feel
AJ, to me this is your strongest creation to date. Your consciousness and the creations it presents are AMAZING! As the hippies expression goes: “your head space is in a place that is elevated beyond us regulars”. These images from your conscious you present in words indicate and exceptional ability, and at your young age. It is intriguing and delightful to know you and observe your development. Looking forward ……………
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