《THE RELIC GUILD (and other stories) Updated regularly.》TELLER OF OLD THINGS (poem)

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Memories recall fleshy

times of hot red oil

warm breath and touch

fingers pointed skinless

sharp like quills plucked

from dead angels' wings

Marimba chimes spatter

pretentious dreaming

clawing vein-hunger upon

prison walls cursed hard

with rusty earthlings

who sound of nothing now

Hopes pissed in stardust

winters old tinder dry

mocking most the forgetful

as always the deep fear

turns myth-tale over epochs

his laugh last and longest

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