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Array
(
[sid] => 84632
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Four Corners
[time] => 2005-02-16 15:14:14
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => .....softly, souls despair in mute and private agony snug hearts,disillusioned lovers lost in their monogomy layed to rest on beds of roses house conserved with backyard fences surround themselves with obscured vowes... bands of gold to confirm their conscience purely personal feuding friends resignations and retreats to the small, blue solitude the 4 mortgaged corners shifting in discomfort we were like running horses with heads toward eternity sleek, and black and powerful masculinity. We dug, like rabid horses, ferocious pits to bury our big heads blunt marrow-white hooves tearing at each others livers All those days you sharpened the knife knowing exactly what death looked like it looked like our house, floors strewn with bones and skulls and little dolls legs it looked like your drawer and cellophane wrapped army of cheap cosmetics god-like to age, fever and plague the people and the stones grew tired we never did we rasped black, sweet blood mouthfuls at eachother how tired did we have to become? tired enough to smile and drown and pull eachother down you, the prim ghost the light would have shone through I, the man of empty strides those empty strides made by broken men doing their families proud the cracked skin and leathery hide days are gone happiness is our loss now like dying pets who've lost their voices I cried and clawed against what we had become but you, in the bloom of your youth, just smiled and evolved.....alone [comments] => 1 [counter] => 154 [topic] => 22 [informant] => lizardking [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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