The Killing Machine

The Our Father

Daddy Long-Legs Moves To The City

Desperation Show

the burning jar

nosferatu

american gothic

the presents of loss

ourselves forsaken

our killing machine

salamander pond

ourselves forsaken

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we alone the dead in coffins nailed shut cloistered catacombs--our coffins fetid failing in pools of our words. we ache of them--our words. our rusted nails for panic we ourselves drive them into skin--wood deep. we lock us in--keep us driven lunatic of opulent hunger

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