lostwithowls

A vigil free of fine leather captivity can be found floating along fragments of an aether fever-borne deception.  I am free. Dirty fingers smear layered grime-cake in search of some soft purgation, the kind provided in a gentle carcinogen nestled just underneath the skin. It is a long way from gasping in miasmatic indifference but this is the enigma, the method of fleeing.  It is not your fault. Not everything can be reduced to rosebud syllogism, interleaving petals and sunshine threads that tie all these disparate fractions and force you to conclude that it all works out somewhere.  I was told wa