Very dark placid sky above

Fri, 04 Aug 2006 14:55:05 GMT

No moon could penetrate pleasures such as these. Nothing could untangle the tendrils I've woven around myself in such a space, such a beautiful respite from all else. Not now, I'm too busy breathing in heaves of crimson that I've grown to know in all my softer places. It's so easy to be here, hand-in-hand with someone so deeply reminiscent of my loftier musings. Muse. Something crouched just beside me to feed me all the thoughts I have craved for months.

I've been fighting the urges that come up apon me, snakelike, to illuminate her doorway and run towards her in the dead of night. Waking hours are spent waiting to see red flashes against pallid porcelain. Some sort of fine mist has been lifted. Crimson is the clearest color, dissipating everything that stands nearby.

In these past weeks, I have craved the company of one person the way I used to crave the bleak emptiness of dusk.

That cat Paul Banks is a bad motherf-...

Very dark placid sky above