Obsidian Secrets

I swallow my secrets, sour, acidic pills, chipped pieces of the bizarre that oxidate in my throat. Iridescent webs shimmer, facets of pebbles spectulate over my weaknesses gossiping along tempered veins and sharply curved intersections, of the igneous archipelagos accumulated in my stomach. Suburban blades carve impulsive lesions to tempt me from my mountain but my lips are sealed Molten rhyolite drivel winks, folding self within self tainted carbons, manipulating hues, flaunting volcanic stigmattas best left suppressed unless the light betrays my tinted stones and bright whispers flicker from silent clefts to escape my ranting eyes.