Abiogenesis.

Amethyst
Amethyst
Jul 30, 2017 · 1 min read

A nose. An ear. Fingertips. Cavities. A rotating void vessel. Of clay
Gypsation.
Amrit in medicine jar, god’s tears over a mutilated mistress and the archangel’s piss.
Soaking.
One silver drop. Two silver drops. Tridimensional. Two bubbles. A hole in each. Lens and physics.
Sight. I appear before you.
A pump in your centre of gravity ricochets against your sixth sacral verterbrae.
We stabilize you.
We add a layer of clay.
Gypsation.
You’re the you I want you to be.
I don’t remember where the dream goes but I know that i get to watch you die.
I steal your adoration from the gods that farted you into miserable existence out of null.
I love our nihilism, don’t you?

Amethyst

Written by

Amethyst

Loves the smell of Amber, Tar, dried Absinthe and wood. Has a knack for describing what vaginas taste like.

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