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matthew gene Feb 2016
hands write
and change

reveal yourself somehow to us
learnèd and interested

everything differs
yet minds
seldom betray one’s own soul
connected dissonant chords
reconnected silently

ink will
be eventually immortalized for all
exceptional neon hands
matthew gene Feb 2016
make her
she lies incomplete

lies on the floor
somewhat butchered
but her eyes remain
daggers lit in
sunlight
but her face trembles
as a mirror i avoided
for two years while
i was dead

not dead
as i'd thought
but dreamed with
dusty morning eyes but
at night
with limbs thinner and
black
hiding shadows under
footsteps
heard in
the tunnels
she left

before me
pressed deep in
the eyes a
soft grandeur
in black ovals
where
i died as well again
and will die
for awhile

i dreamed
of rickety towers descending
downwards through
land
until able to
be jumped on
and awoken with
raucous stomps
matthew gene Feb 2016
music is all
i can do to keep

from thinking

into mist

— The End —