Enviar corrección: Dead eyes open, or, how the woman in the attic fled, never to return - Cinema strange

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My eyes are arid and cold on a portrait&#39;s insides. i am time-hardened wax and i can see wide fungus and frost have fondled my frontside and i- did he wonder and wander in small ages? did he forget that i died? he&#39;s older and ugly and a beautiful baby, he&#39;s retinal mist. far away, far away, leaning and turning, i moan and i list
Not flying, not walking, porous, like curtains, i hang on the dampness of spring i&#39;ve known my own scrapings for so many years, i know that something is coming not demon, not quickly, gradual breaking my knees will go out from under me i&#39;ve borne my own weight for so many years, i know the ground is dissolving not under, not behind, not slow and i&#39;m far-away attic frost, free and untangled
Didn&#39;t he wonder? i shall surprise him did he forget? i shall remind him please hold my hand, beautiful, ugly man i&#39;ve come untangled, but we shall find frost again dizzy and turning, you never need walk i shall carry you, hold you, early and blinded my son is no burden, i&#39;m ancient with sorrow strength

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