still strange moons of pity
When we went wrong
her faltered performances
My crimson sympathy
be delighted to hell
helpless hands betrayed my imagined hunger. she stepped upon my cheek. Unsavoury as an acquaintance. At this great distance. We toll the knot of pansies. Hair is fingers. Sitting on the edge of butter. Until they kill me. All day long. Pouring through her perspiration.
I betray us both. With hunger. Gradually threading the needle. Far away, my lips move. Gliding through reason. Covered and crying. We evaporate into thin air.
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Method = ngrams
Corpus = The King in Yellow
