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Surface

Surface

I traced your words with my finger
And I wrote them down, under my skin
So I wouldn't forget, so you'd always be with me
And in my concious sleep, my body scans them over
Searching for something sweet, something to hang on to

But each word I find, bleeds its way out
Like a necratic infection...
Bursting forth, to the surface...
An abundance of fetid corpuscula

And I needed something, to say
This is a sign, I needed something to say
This is a sign, I needed something to say
This is a sign

Everynight, I sweat them out
Seething into the air

This elegy of you
This elegy of you


© Sentient End 2004