Yet I lay nearly dead,
Incapable of being roused,
A fascimile of former self,
So little inhabits this shell.
...To whom do I owe this gift of not?
A sibling in sin to sink your teeth in,
Rendered flesh from weakened bones,
A smacking of the lips, A smattering of tombs.
...Do ghouls still ponder my curious symmetry?
The horizon is an orgy of green fire,
Where flames eat from calloused palms,
Yet I lay nearly dead,
Incapable of being roused.
- Randy Young / Sept.24/2008
Marissa Nadler – For My Crimes
-
Marissa Nadler shares the beautifully sweeping title track from her new
album, out September 28th on Sacred Bones / Bella Union. For My Crimes
features an ...
7 years ago
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