Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
“Hm. Maybe hurled and whirled.” It wasn’t exactly in any proficient meter or whatever the fuck it was – but poetry was supposed to be free-flowing and all that shit so, they could take it or leave it. She liked the double-meaning of hurled anyway – from throwing them off their grandstand or being vomited on.
As for roses, she nodded, waving her hand in the direction of many others doing the same. “Yeah. I haven’t seen any,” and then instead had rounded the crowds into hide and seek and then watched as Thalassa set fires. A typical day.
Lovely tea shops gave her pause – enough to rifle her paper and cross out the lines she wasn’t going to use. “That’s neat. Did they have anything good?” Uncertain whether or not he was a great scholar, she pointed in the direction of the Undercroft. “They have a neat little library here too. Full of old shit.”
As for roses, she nodded, waving her hand in the direction of many others doing the same. “Yeah. I haven’t seen any,” and then instead had rounded the crowds into hide and seek and then watched as Thalassa set fires. A typical day.
Lovely tea shops gave her pause – enough to rifle her paper and cross out the lines she wasn’t going to use. “That’s neat. Did they have anything good?” Uncertain whether or not he was a great scholar, she pointed in the direction of the Undercroft. “They have a neat little library here too. Full of old shit.”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
