emma b. says

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Dorothy Morgan plays the organ

we all come and go, like rice paper on the coming snow.
I was a point on a map and I was a momentatrary locus, and now I am stuck, bitumin and glue, I'll continue to haunt the causeways and the highways and the biways. Here comes Dororthy, here comes the soft beware.

She dies then, and she'll die alone, some camps will say it's a good death, others will sigh, others will say that the debt is still unpaid. she'll die alone like I will....

but then again fuck you loki, fuck you for coming down, and fuck you for coming 'round. I am never going to thank you for your glorious dawn rent asunder. I will harbor your heartache in my eyes, run dark as swift as foreign rivers, willammette and columbia and there is really no going back now, nor no need. Two swift breaths and exhale over a city, let it go, flightless phoenix, let it all go, let the love go, let it all go and throw it out out the window.

years before now I will throw your purse out the window, and years before now you will steal in my name and I will burn with the peculiar sort of shame of the very innocent and the very wiley.


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