As the Silver Bends

So the men marveled at ingenious heads of nails. The black became a powder, thicker. From airwaves pinging metallic drift – the baser elements arouse themselves to the lower reaches of our oak and parchment hearts. The alchemist is destroyed by ice. The ice is wet and ice-blue. My hands are stumps against your clever fists. The lightning forks and clouds around our salinated flesh. All is deeply ended in the silence, resonant.

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About QuietMonolith

I was just a mild mannered young man living in Portland, OR, until one day....POOF! I turned into a crazy, nefarious, thieving, drug-crazed lunatic. I had lots of therapy and spent many months in hospitals and treatment facilities. Eventually, at the end of my rope, I decided to change everything. With the support of my family and friends, I have embarked on a quest to achieve optimum wellness. I am making radical changes in every part of my life, and in the way I approach the world in which I live. Follow my blog, The Wellness Quest, to experience what happens when a desperate addict takes hold of his destiny and devotes all his time and energy toward making a full recovery. I am also a writer and poet. Follow my blog, What We Left Behind in Crowded Rooms, to take a look at some of my recent poems.
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