Gods, I need you!
Does our waxing promise wane?
Buried in shit is the spit-
mark of a verdant growth;
not just for me but for my Other.
Let green disguise throw up ulterior moves
while circuitous circusing festivities loom;
fire and smoke are half the joke,
what gets drummed gets drummed gets our use.
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3 comments:
Gods we call , the xchange is ajam,
spent hollers and hand clasp riddled,
targets defined in arrows, words and tears,
grief lifter IAO
hearken not thee to my utterances and my prostrations,
spine strengther IAO
seep into my weakness and I feel lifted by the surrender of my will to yours,
Eternally bigger IAO be sure of your promotion for inside we know your just keeping my seat warm IAO
for other gods click...
http://jh0v.blogpot.com/
I've got half an urge to reply...
Prostrate surrender? I hope we are on better terms than that; let Hermes be my messenger, let it resound among the aetherwaves - "I am that I am".
And so are you.
It seems I misunderstood something here, upon reflection.
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