The Soaked Socket

And soaked socket in the sick cotton skin, in the dark cotton heaven, in the blossom of waves. But i still can see you my flask star, let they glow, these plush scars, these steel bars, these black bars... cause i see you in this feral tide of ambient sky. Full of towels and dye, i will end when you die, i wil choke in my rye.
Eerie flowing drops of caustic blue flash in your lungs. When the camisole hugs weak and pariah body, when he lets in the bugs, the bushes and brushes, he pours and he crushes. And i'm still so gaping in this velvet golden fringe. Moist for carpet to cringe. On the golden soft fringe. Only in the quarry you can open this squash, only in the quarry you can avoid this crash. You can push the red button to drown into clash
But too much mercury is not very healthy feed, so you have to be careful with all that you need, with visions of silence and violence indeed. With pastures and weed.
On another meadow even i can be squeezing, erupting and breathing, on another meadom, in another stretch, it's not very easy to bee an eel and hatch.

начало сентября 2014