Guest guest Posted November 4, 2005 Report Share Posted November 4, 2005 I sniff the air as wild beasts do sensing certain death yet thirst binds to the moment at the watering hole swift movement the jaws of death clamp shut, crunch Bone fur and flesh, predator mouth drips fresh sanguine, I am but a voyeur here a woman in a lioness dress trying death on for size, resolutely shaking the leaves from my hair, where I fell asleep now a brown scorched earth my self-imposed ferocity to know animal skins and death hunts a fate far far better than a life knowing nothing but the taste of amanitine Ana Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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