Thursday, February 14, 2008

PCR

We never stop to think, when we put
beautiful creatures in a jar,
of what the world will never see,
what they nor we will ever be
or what we truly are

The devil sank his talons deep into her neck
and seethed his vulgar breath within her spine,
but the sun was warm that day,
and I watched her eyes go nova
in the yellow light that fell upon her
hay colored hair.