The thought creeps in, gets slow and sensual. How Flesh my mind shakes. The sighs raise clouds of dust and dead flowers.
It makes your mind stronger, more constant in space and you invade me days, weeks, months of absolute emptiness. Linger.
Sweat check in tiny droplets from the pores. The forehead, cheeks flushed. The pace is slow but increases. The silence I cut it into tiny pieces with thin cries, but the explosion of screams in my head. Every little past feeling becomes flesh and blood, becomes strong within me.
The fast pace of your throat I thought. The breath broken by numerous micro explosions of emotion.
The thought does violence.
My conscience embraces the darkness and my body is completely soaked, do not respond to my will.
Your thoughts I have. He has become the blade and ripping each membrane.
the sweat on my face, but few dense mingle tears, taking to be born of violent tremors. Tremors. Fears.
Now that thought makes her way becoming afraid. Leaves a trail of wet ground poison.
