Farfarello

Shush, shush, look she sleeps. Her rotten core spreading vile traces in yellows and in greens. Shush, such things for not children or the beasts, this is her rotting core a gaping maw with filthy teeth. They come within the fleshy heart, spreading spreading spreading. Yellow and green and slick and grease and shush shush. They weaken the heart and lungs and rotting cores. They bring such things to gripping hands and lying tongues.

Lying with her filthy mattress she is the mistress of all things rotting shush now shush now, she weeps alone with the yellow and the green and the dark dark man with nothing nothing nothing.