Thimble by P. J. German ~ep

08 May

Vomiting ghosts, you are in deep.

You only (save) the money that
      created
you.
Never do you save the drowning. You are blind, to their call;

deaf to our wave.

Palatable proposals plaster you;
yet,
when eaten, they resemble apples.

Snakes bleed from your veins

when you are pricked with truth.

A shard of genuineness would be but a thimble upon your grave.
1.27.09

6.10pm

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