It is sharpening crimson steel in a knife as of that, with it fingers softly bleed like care and rise as a shuttered peach in
a sturdy piece of scarlet, paid in heed.

Your foreboding onthou my skin is no more truly nor less rigid unplugging of violin strings out of a guttural chords into a straight morbid fire, and a pain structure
hardens, straightens,
embeds them forever into every light’s riddance, this trial mended.
Welcomed fireflies in a
solstice. bonfire. forest. [stygian].

Love, my dearest Love, if your ever evanescent body or voice even exists:
if I ever dare to greet in my tears music it only may be to bleed with you in one common fluid, to have my ribs torn gently by
each your promise barely for my hand’s taking,
endure time to have my truer form by you,
a sensation, clad in lilac velvet that goes
under the name of “Paper Airplane” by
my thoughts.

To keep.
Us.
Intact.
More than as rain we always are.

A child picked up a solitary chalk and sketching protruded some things by that hand & sight, some sun with injustice drawn, that elders’ words and acts
have not put up.

Some of the chalk simply lays everyday crushed.

I expect
the day when
Poetry is no
longer forcefully
mulled
over
words,
when we commit
it
as of
us,
when we
reek
of it,
or rather
Poetry
reeks
of us,
not shunned or shunning by
the traps in
word-ings.
We Poets then
will truly spurt
and raise an elegy
off
the skin.

That one faithful day
libraries and others will shed
books,
letters and papers,
like finally autumn
leaves,
our chips into small
encasings
like pearls with shells
their.

And
those who choose us
on the shelves will
receive the reward
of our dragging
into
our depths like
persistent algae,
for
a while,
or forevermore.

And I’ll finally be
able to unveil to them:

“I am one of Poetry’s
revelations.”

For now/
pay the lyrical’s heed/
in its written ways/
by the respect of every/
blank space ending/
before each and every verse/
it brings/

I don’t want
all the words

to behave

I want them
all to mean

something
but not always

what I had
in mind

they can dance
to their own

beat

create a new
sound

tell a story
I never heard

I try to give
them the space

to grow