Sunday, June 1, 2014


voices dripping through the dark. pulled up slowly from the ground to be drunk and spilled. muddying the path.
sighing through the cracks of subconscious windowseals.
calling softly in dreaming streets.
the echo of wishes coming from inside the well.
crossed fingers for curses and cures.
even vampires have to knock on wood.
nothing stays out if the door never shuts.

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