a snow of butterflies : texticity

by Tomorrow's Man

February 09, 2005

I sense the new moon rising and my blood beats a little harder against my skin. I imagine it is trying to break free of me, trying to absorb itself into women, the closest inhabitants of the moon.

I've so much moonblood that I pull with the tides, yet no one I know sees this; maybe I am just made of cheese.

a snow of butterflies... [an error occurred while processing this directive]