Grandma Fibonacci's Liquorice Jar
Wednesday, May 10, 2006 → by Danieru
Found;Smashed;
Broken.
Smuggled out,
then flung up a tree.
My grandma's liquorice potion,
tastes so deeply of death I gurgle at the thought.
Charcoal lips shield jet-black lies as she clutches me to her bosom and slavers wildly.
Next time - oh dear, decrepit relative of mine - that death will be yours, as I clasp a shard of liquorice jar and slit your throat wide open.
Subscribe via RSS
Via Email
Post a Comment