Evening Storm
Above me inky veins plunge
into pinkish grey flesh
and fan out in intricate
patterns of black lace.
Needles prick my skin
and dissolve into wet kisses.
The smell of damp dirt
fills my nostrils.
The cold comforts me
with steely fingers.
Wings of moss enfold me
as I curl into waiting arms.
Above me inky veins plunge
into pinkish grey flesh
and fan out in intricate
patterns of black lace.
Needles prick my skin
and dissolve into wet kisses.
The smell of damp dirt
fills my nostrils.
The cold comforts me
with steely fingers.
Wings of moss enfold me
as I curl into waiting arms.
The gig went rather well, considering my braindeadness (I forgot my drum....) We had a good crowd for the first two sets, then at 11.30 everybody was gone. The mgmnt. has figured out that in the South nobody stays out much past 11.00.
Good luck digging out of the snow. We're supposed to get cold rain.