Be careful. Do not feed a bedsheet
a lamp; it’ll think the day’s not done.
Should you both not have the sun
in that barred eye with lock and key,
be careful. Do not feed a bedsheet
your eyes; should you not believe it,
darkness needs sight to receive it;
and thus grow tired and fall asleep.
Be careful. Do not feed a bedsheet
the sun; should barred eye unlock
set free the sight of every clock and
let the time descend from every wall
And (what you should not ever do)
is feed bedsheets at all.
When I am to fall asleep, I tend to feel alone
as when I cannot see your face when we are
talking on the phone.
When I am to sing, I tend to sing in tune
with traffic as we’re trapped with drivers
with ears that expel fumes.
When I am to walk, strawmen make themselves at home.
Where icy streets have clumsy feets
refuse to let us roam. (and I dropped my phone!)
I dropped my phone?
I dropped my phone.
I dropped my phone…
I dropped my phone!
Now I do not feel abandoned, the
strawmen have had just as bad a...
“She’s recovering well. If she drinks more River water, I’m sure she’ll improve. Though the more herself she is, the more dangerous she becomes. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Right. Let’s build a flask she can drink out of.” Ajax drained his eyes of tears and Pyrus stripped his flesh of bubbling magma to create a flask made of stone. Pyrus filled it with water and gave the flask to Amber.
“Don’t drink it all in one go. Have a small sip whenever you feel out of sorts.” Again, the two mined...
At first, the flower kept a gold to her stem,
but in the mirror, she donned a green instead.
Having lost her glow, she’d wilt into her bed,
yet paler have made puddles of lesser men.
He’d tend to thorns along her throat and leg
that limp became after days of praying; beg!
That she could draw tears from him again,
for he grew numb; and he yearned to tread
on soils yet unsullied by the rose. She said
“You loved me only for my health and went
as the winds do with my earthy scent; dread /
the day that I...
It would be more apt to say these were a people half asleep than undead. This is a town of humans living on ancient earth. Anyone who has felt this earth breathe and bleed with them has special privileges.
It’s because of the ghosts. The undead couldn’t interact with the living without some unnatural effect. Bathe in any dirt blessed by these supernatural beings and you’ll find yourself unable to feel, but immortal. And it’s not just the earth that’s been blessed. We do not call the sunless...