PANOPTICONCLAVE

Inamorata

Posted on: May 8, 2010


Whispering to the Devil

Lady, be nice
You’re as trees stripped in the winter months
Stark-naked, cascaded down the fronts of the fount
Behold and hush,
It’s the hour of quiet when the badgers down to drink
You shall only glory with the dawn’s first ray, so think
Lady, be good
You’ve got off on the wrong foot..

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