◆ SpookStack

~~. I wild start this before the composure , of the evening eece while there a Ve OS. = ys are sounds of music, familiar Fook and roll music ani voices — struggling to be heard of above. I wilt keep the Gay ‘on me “ta” — morning .... sleep snatching no aroaa from ny aires ...sleep having soulptured the hallow in ny rid .... Vatantly painful .... my bath showered morning as a shooting star stole my words and I want to face the weeds .... their color hues expression greedily. I have met a witch ..... I wonder if I have only known witches or playsates of brew .... brooding and boiling their poisions in a mutual seething pot...sometimes experiencing purely human sentiments in the heat of evaporation...no orystal ... but common. As hands join in a dance the witches waltged and salted each others wounds bitterly ese CT@ating new singular postures our subtle defenseB.oe. very acceptable.... while reminiscently the pot still brewed ..,.lonesome as a tea kettle in occassional spaces....delicate as a cobweb worn in place across your breast.....pitchforked with distruction that would rise and describe its own density in single as our independent scales drew our own measures ..... we were all actresses when out pt costumes... Sunshine on a bare back...you can be penetrated....I don*t care to wear my lies prettily....some islands are no man’s land a hankerchief would be lost in sand.....ami so a footprint ..... and your shadow shall have an echo grup’ atte ee