STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART; NO MIXER

10 Jun

Victorian naughty bits

Curse the cold wall around the Holy Scintilla within. C’est puissant. The red plague rid me of this frosty facade.

Bless those eyes, are they impossible to draw?

Curses, I feel what you feel; it’s just I can’t say… out loud. Shhhh. I’m afraid of what happens when dams burst.

Bless your tiny feet as they walk on the moist Earth. And wherever you go – dig it: Fly!

Curses on the Shadow-Men that’d force infantry on drummers everywhere, ridding the land of laughter.

Blessings on those rare souls still connected to a hundred-thousand anonymous troubadours.

A million curses on profiteerings; the bones of future generations. How can you look at your children and not regret the famine you have thrust upon them?

A billion blessings on the Guardian Angel at the Gates of Paradise; she is the bearer of the beacon. The way, the truth and the light.

That is all.

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