When the water was about up to our knees and our rolled up pants were soaked from the cuffs all the way up to the pockets, I started to feel this incredible pressure in my head. I squeezed your hand because it startled me, and then suddenly my nose began to bleed terribly and I suppose I passed out. When I woke up I was on my back in the sand underneath the shade of the bridge, and you were laying beside me, on your back too, reading a book held up in front of your face so that I could not see your eyes. I didn’t want to ask you what happened. But I supposed you’d dragged me out of the water. What else could have happened? Closing my eyes again, I tried to think of something rational to say. I don’t know why, but I felt petrified. I can only imagine the blood in the water and my body noncommittal as you dragged me out, pretending nothing happened.

The moon roams around in the night sky like a hungry animal, circling the earth angrily.

Of course, it’s not any matter of my concern, and I won’t tell a soul.

A skeleton is standing on top of the house. Like a weather vane.

Just have your crimes, the ones you dream of.

With growing fascination, the candles were lit and the circle became quiet. We intended to look fondly upon the Beast, and to fear nothing but to live another day without purgatorial prospect between the hybrid wings of light and darkness.

(Source: corpseonpumpkin.com)

At the front gate of Eleph Home, folding your hands in the fog.

(Source: corpseonpumpkin.com)

After the serpent sought out the morning.

(Source: corpseonpumpkin.com)

Disappearing ink penned into the hotel registry.

(Source: corpseonpumpkin.com)

Where and when I knew her from, there was the sea at night and the fear of falling over the edge of the bridge into the water in the dark while sleeping.