Paul and Sara ride
Burgundy lipstick her own
A flash radio
©

The evening explodes inside their arms
Paul and Sara met dynamite smiling
Fending off parent’s wishes
With soft smile wave kisses

© Matthew Goff

The ****** Versus Everything in its Mirror

I personally know very little about ***. Virtually nothing. That is speaking purely of physical *******. Still, I can speak forever of worlds that soft sparks construct in a single kiss. It is here, in the palace of naive angels tender and young, that a nervous heart beats the sweetest trembling of rhythms in the day’s surprise. It is from these voices of subtle breaths, in the immediacy of experience, that I have found a language most akin to absolute philosophy in momentary bliss. A language spoken only through the silence of smiles. A universe of colors shared by the adolescent chameleon in our souls.

© Matthew Goff

Rearranging chairs
Much makeup to go around
Pretty girls smash glass
©

I keep a pink afternoon
in my pocket

A luxury in breaths
and a wet side

That is often said to be
her fragrant locks!

She wears a movement
that is blush

Her cheekbone cut to spring showers
and a wild smile

That often seems to me
a most fancy rush!

© Matthew Goff

She walks by wearing blue stockings in the rainy afternoon
Her youth is like a tender dream
She wears a pair of adolescent stars from her ears
All her boyfriends, when they speak, sound like cool rivers
In the sky-blue of the day
She smiles
The way lilac bushes crush petals into joy

Now three o’clock in the precious afternoon of torn cotton strands
School lets out a riot of sapphire glitter
Some girl stripes her vanilla ice cream cone with azure breathing
On seeing this she faints like a toss of sprinkles

She’s woken by blue candy kisses
Like a cluster of stars falling
From a boy
Upon her face
The constellation of a crush

As she gets up
A thousand blue ponies slide from her rain-water hair
Before disappearing in the distance
Young children mount them tackling flowers

She kisses him
And lets slide the sky-blue of the day from her lips
His arms fall like water around her body
As she turns, racing to make friends with
The twinkling blue of a butterfly’s eye

© Matthew Goff

Towards love my thoughts run high
But with regards to women
in seeking their embraces
through pursuit never I
No, my desires speed through the trees like cats
With one girl in mind
I stalk the idea
with feline and fierce appetite

© Matthew Goff