Monks and Whores
However did somebody tout the teats of my udder and pass ‘em off to another to suckle and let it pass away just like that? How so? I never understood. I sought no one but myself why this was. No one could possibly give me a proper answer, could one?
A many of a few weeks before now, I saw myself out of my own self. A man might be two men. Like a thing/somebody/devil/fairy who wishes to be a negative adjective. Not. There’s nothing right or wrong in all the world. Yes no? I never once betrayed my heart. I always follow closely. Where I am today could very much be accounted for. Yes, many times. I felt sure. In layman’s terms, my heart became a captive in a locked room. Translated, that means, I cannot part with you. Translated, that means, I am you. Translated, that means, what’s inside me is impossible to end until it ends itself, that is, an undying love.
Haha yay stupid. Acknowledged anyhow.
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You’re currently reading “Monks and Whores,” an entry on If I could make myself believe,
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- Thursday, July 3, 2008 / 3:13 pm
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