It is a swollen one, which festers and is of bluish color.
It is a torn apart and a bitten off by vultures one, eaten by different kinds of worms.
It is the one reduced to skeleton, with some flesh and blood held in by the tendons.
It is a blood-besmeared skeleton without flesh but held in by the tendons.
It is a mummified one, reduced to only skeleton held by the tendons, with no flesh and not besmeared with blood.
It is a scattered skeleton all around the ground.
It is only the white bones.
It is a pile of bones, heaped together.
It is the bones that got rotten and became dust.
supported by 4 fans who also own “Nine.Stages.Of.Corpses.(Meditation.At.The.Charnel.Ground)”
Powerful, plaintive expression of the fathomless sorrow of our suffering cetaceans and their depthless home, together with the indescribable loveliness of their distant blue-black realm. I feel as much interstellar space here as I do deep ocean, equally crushing and buoying. Dave Aftandilian
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