Description
Vol.2 Thought in Patterns
Pouding piston fingers.
Bodies, ugly in the light,
Split apart and ruined in the dark.
Honey drips turn bitter;
Sensation betrays the sour note
Of that which lingers.
Bursting bruises, not welcomed,
Seeming monsterous in their shapes.
The sickly taste of doubt,
Of regret.
©MJML