Cold Love’s The Loveliest Love

The Earth Swirls Down Through The Ominous Moons Of Preconsidered Generations.

This Tower, Patched Unevenly With Black Ivy, Arose Like A Mutilated Finger From Among The Fists Of Knuckled Masonry And Pointed Blasphemously At Heaven. At Night The Owls Made Of It An Echoing Throat; By Day It Stood Voiceless And Cast Its Long Shadow.

I Want A Lot To Eat, I'm Going To Think Today.

There Are Times When The Air That Floats Between Mortals Becomes, In Its Stillness And Silence, As Cruel As The Edge Of A Scythe.

Something To Remember, That: Cats For Missiles.