Arachnid destetation
6:12 p.m.//06.06.06

Mood: blank
Sound: Damon and Naomi -- ETA

The moon was a planet just like earth
Only it is even deader
The pistols of its flowers are the only protection
Against insects
Which were more preoccupied
With the half-rotted inhabitants soiled to the brim
Under their own garments
History tells us of their blood
Flowing down one leg and up the other
Memories insoluble to their conscience
Memories outside themselves in a twisted prank
Played upon them like dogs
Tired of chasing their food

Thin oxygen curves their posture substantially
Flashes for their purpose
Stripped to skeletal ornaments
Of meat and resin from animal marks
Flicker over over the loudscreen
Machines hum quietly in the distance
A few naive inhabitants wander
Foolishly after sundown
In search for black spots
But no one leaves this moon carefree of memory
Survivors often match their hands upwards
Toward greater satellites
Wronged in the eyes by a million miles
And a million more bodies to sift through

The smaller creatures have the secret
To pinning us down to the dirt
When they breathe, they inspire
When we breathe, we expire


[previous]������[forward]

[messeges]
[them]
[mistakes]
[current]