اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
These strange thorned vines spring from the ground they wind around me as
they bind me down she moves across the rosegarden suspended in a dark cloud
of flies her toes drag the tops of the flowers and leave them blackened and
shriveled in her wake her hands dangle from thin strings of skin her
forearms they're like gun barrels smoking crimson
