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Argumenitive venom
by
Tannen Dell

This is where your quaky pale hands have been setting silence as it bites your lips together and takes the easieness from your word breaking tounge, like Alice you assumed this chaos was wonderful under catipillar legs and above gravel and oil. Cosmicly and ironically you step on and crush a soaking wet baby nebulla, a cosmos ordered by Alexander to greatness on his front porch and abandonment is where you keep setting your pale hands.

--Submitted by TannenDell on 2010-12-02.

Julianne Carlile:
I really like this. Are the words misspelled by design?
Posted 12/04/2010 06:56 AM

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