Masks: a presentiment of the coming insurrection---of the warrior-self caressing its way outward from the marrow---and over us, to protect from the blood, the bloods heat; to conceal. The drum's call; steel's radiance; bulged and strapped, fitted, glove and mask. Inside, soft, quiet; all is ready and waiting.
Posted by
it's their empty eyes on February 9, 2010 at 1:35 PM
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