her pupils were the greatest teachers i've ever known. a muse with a noose, we talked in the tongues of pictures past. a stoic pose brought about heroic prose. had she blinked this ink would no longer be sufficient, an epic story cut short.
Romeo is still bleeding, and no one cares.
her eyes made me want-
to be a poet.
slurred words match the hue of two of the most unforgiving disciples my i's have encountered. blasphemy birthed these idle hands that carress my soul with a choke hold.
the gospel of gentics
made an untainted page breath, inanimate life follows, accustomed to her light, and lives by the grace of my pen. the sin in the innocence of a broken verse, petty nouns and verbs obscure poetic justice.
so in the spirit of salvation-
god did away with black and white pictures.
sacrificed a broken social scene's heretic hobby. revisionist pictoral history forever banned as long as my words stand.