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Whispering Sweet Nothings in Moon's Ear

Whispering Sweet Nothings in Moon's Ear

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Published by illyrianka
Andi Zeneli ©

Whispering sweet nothings in moon's ear

Project Room 346 Race with the darkness Strange the ways of G- pigs, And strange the ways of owners! Who tread the treadmill The loving path of mourners. Why does the car shrink Side-walks, run, dry cigarettes.

I want the treadmill To be clean of the rats. I want but stars to chase My love, my guinea pigs The slums drink dusty rain My sweat new body seeks. The hot side-walk undismayed, And undismayed beholds The portents of exhaustion Dry
Andi Zeneli ©

Whispering sweet nothings in moon's ear

Project Room 346 Race with the darkness Strange the ways of G- pigs, And strange the ways of owners! Who tread the treadmill The loving path of mourners. Why does the car shrink Side-walks, run, dry cigarettes.

I want the treadmill To be clean of the rats. I want but stars to chase My love, my guinea pigs The slums drink dusty rain My sweat new body seeks. The hot side-walk undismayed, And undismayed beholds The portents of exhaustion Dry

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Categories:Types, Speeches
Published by: illyrianka on Sep 19, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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01/18/2013

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Andi Zeneli ©
Whispering sweet nothings in moon's ear
Project Room 346Race with the darknessStrange the ways of G- pigs,And strange the ways of owners!Who tread the treadmillThe loving path of mourners.Why does the car shrinkSide-walks, run, dry cigarettes.
 
I want the treadmillTo be clean of the rats.I want but stars to chaseMy love, my guinea pigsThe slums drink dusty rainMy sweat new body seeks.The hot side-walk undismayed,And undismayed beholdsThe portents of exhaustionDry fish inside the moulds.Love is device for walkingwhile staying in the same placethe stars are far from rockingthe smooth skin on my face.Can stars become my petspursue my love on high?don’t want to feed the catsand dogs who never cry.I want the guinea pigsimpler, lighter, and lessexpensive candle wickdarkness’s treadmill to race.And to the clang of steelsoft arms want rest to lootI run till night’s skin peelsAnd the cage plants its footA G-pig in arms shall standand see beyond the cratethe growing breastplatethe war of love that waitto plunge the animalsand humans in despairuplifted on the pedestalfly-catcher stars to snare.
 
Project Room 347The best death faceI found the kindest face,that mimed everything I felt.She counted my every tracehad the make up I had saved.She stared at my wondersAnd explained my dreamsShe dusted all the cornersAnd knew what darkness means.Not once did she interrupt tearsOr tell me they were wrongShe saw the night of fearsAnd promised she'd stay long.I reached out to her handTo show her that I care.pull her close and let her veinmeasure the blood we share.I went to hold her waistTo squeeze fire from her breathAnd realised her perfect tasteWas nothing but my death.Project Room 348The eagle and PrometheusThere grew an eagle from the tram cabledisplaying a beak and a claw labelpassengers too busy to run or to hidenext curious wave fed another tideI fought the temptation of onions to grieveiron eyed pliers that beckoned to leave

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