| abstruse | ||
| jennifer |
"tristis est anima mea usque ad mortem" The so many small things, the circles, the rings, the dropped hints and the hints that are not understood until it is possibly too late to do anything... god forbid. The absence of many and the presence of the rest. The perpetual motion of words. The way the system survives, even after cogs are stripped and gears are torn. The longing the trinity has for this great machine, and the hope to return soon. |
000214 |
| ... | ||
| vituperus | arcane | 040502 |
| ... | ||
| z | wind over holes in stone make whistle moan vibrances of torture laden sighs in trees shaking and all softly sweet in grasses waving and ants know no dominion above the thistle stalks over the crash and hiss the pebble-sand stone rolling pull of the worlds tongue and stops | 080408 |