Venus Blood

Stressing poison glands
Filling cups with dead fountain dreams
Make you feel a special inebriation

Drink and Hunger him for scratchy inflation
Force Colombian coffers' causality
Change of habit, counted when eleven fingers

Pointed out The gloaming of the perfect posture
placed before the Nothing of Something
Simply cut to separate what does void or not

Venus Blood float you in regions without atmosphere
Gravity spheres wake in lessened wetness
While in Zero your hands never become dirty...


Yet,
at home far away,
in between rotting walls,
further corruption is revealed.


[23:27|31.7.012] ©c.thomas.carter