Unbloated bodies floating downstream, with backs to the sky. Sunburns for coffin nails. Unperturbed red-bills are an ambivalent audience. Their preening continues in the hundred-plus heat. Stepping carefully over broken, shoreside fishing poles. Lines snarled and useless in the muddy river weeds. The currents unable to drain the impotent rage trapped forever inside the drifting corpses. Silhouettes still stuffed so full of self-delusion, it sours the shores.
11:31 p.m. - 2020-08-12
Recent entries:
Thanking the Pandemonium - 2020-11-26
Simplicity of Sometimes - 2020-11-25
Bubblebeams - 2020-11-18
Red Blue Green Purple - 2020-11-11
Too Young to Descend - 2020-11-11
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