The Short Yarn In twilight’s grasp, secrets bold, What shall we do with the ocean’s hold? Glasses high, the stories told, What shall we do with the tales of old? ’Round the hearth, our yarns unfold, What shall we do with the tales untold? Ocean deeps, brave and cold, What shall we do with the …
A dark cantina left wanting,Grinding brass humming,Lustful eyes grazing,Narratives perspiring, silently escaping,Numerical tongues of foreign flicker,Prying oyster-shells asunder,The cold formless gorging,Shadowy currents swirling. A dark cantina left wanting, Grinding brass humming, Lustful eyes grazing, Narratives perspiring, silently escaping, Numerical tongues of foreign flicker, Prying oyster-shells asunder, The cold formless gorging, Shadowy currents swirling.
She whom one awaits is, because she is expected, Already present, already master, Vigorously shattering tables, Single shards requested, Opening codes, Charging power, Sacred submissions, Reputation – driven, A chain model of domination.
Red cinnabar codes transfer, Ravenous algorithms consume, Invisible reality pushed, Lead of life transmuted.