Blight dangling by the hairs grated with pus to smear a smile where lips used to be and sprinkle glow in the gloom where eyes once were and a neck and a body sometimes followed,
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still cold blood melts to linoleum casting a dripping shadow to a husk a blur of a being rubbed down by being banished to the ulcerous prairie of a punctured wound
where mangled nails sift for that pandora that was, that ruby buried at the vanishing point of joy
but it’s been too long it’s far too late, so seek no further.
