restoring death to its abode
the throes of pale descend; a bone is wrought this the wire where blood is vine as fern-door tips open, the solitary dove coos whose wish remains, which house of worm witholds? as the cove of ground breaks open love buds whose wish remains, which whorl of tincture roams? restoring death to its
abode i as the stubbornness of manhell climb out of nothing into nothing serpent! sway us into call, strum the wet wood into storm smoke mother!