I saw the draw of the arrow from the corner of my eye
Suddenly I was stricken by the aim of a divine
It filled my skin with periwinkle and blush

A whisper...
Is it you?
Or some wicked trick
A vision of Dolos?

It no longer mattered
For I had tasted the fruit of the vine
The knowledge was now mine
It flooded my lobes with carnal warmth
Like a strong tonic
It left me perspirating and dripping with desire
I furrowed my brow
So as to see you clearly

I want to see you in the round and complete
Dissect your soul and steady myself in your flaws
Looking for some assurance that you are fixed to this world

How can I be sure?
I have heard tales of angels with the desires of men
Leading them by the chin with the tips of their fingers
To a watery whirlwind of peril

I have been so alone.
Electing new lows
Just to mix it up
The rocks splash softly against the glass
Steam rising like the visible sizzle of freshly seared meat

This is it
It's all you got
Sadly, you grip it loosely and can hardly detect it's presence
Like the creeping escalation of day break.
Where you will be met with the introspections of your desisons
All of your senses will judge and be judged

In the back seat I know he knows
He peers in the reflective surface and like light hitting a prism they go everywhere
I feel them on my shoulder speaking in very different voices

"No one lies like you do to you."

So much talent
The gift of the gab
You spin them like paying customers upon the tilt-a-whirl
Their souls fill with amusement as their stomachs bubble from the inertia

They welcome the *****
Violent and involuntary
Like the under toe of love
You are churned and wrenched
The brackish oil fills your lungs
It compounds to your amino acids
Rendering you permanently convoluted.

Often I wonder what is the best that happy people can expect?
Residing amongst the coil of the cornucopia
Tightly packed sweetness for others to despise
How can you be ask to understand sadness when you are engulfed in all the nice bright colors

I feed on it, insatiably so
The juices drip like tears from my mandible​
Gorging just to maintain the hollow gnaw of hunger
The discomfort is all you have to measure your highs

That's the best

Manic Waves

Sometimes I feel like the best miserable person.
The catalyst is swift and tasteless
My tongue is dry and dastardly
The nicest person alive
A daft dandy
I require no digestion

As soon as you look to me
I turn away
Not revealing the slightest proof that you were ever observed

The gray scale slowly becomes them

Eventually, the stone will find the center of the slump
Momentum willing you may see your task crest the horizon;

But alas, you are besieged again

These days are for the daisies, accented with juniper and babies breath
A gazebo beneath a tree like shade on a cloudy afternoon

With our glasses more vertical than not; I drink you in and swear away the day

She smiles, because I stare off for long periods of time
Reasoning, that I don't want her to catch me gazing at what I have no right to love

A gardener's guilt
Plucking the ripe and ready
It's the time of season for cessation
The paradoxical harvest
An event of sustenance and death

A consumer has no sensation other than taste
A carnivore only taste one flavor

Your flesh on the vine
A rare and coveted commodity
Past vintages become quartets of meaningless digits, like discarded combinations on a constantly changing tumbler

The fortuitous ones will eventually get their chance, but only after the
horticulturist has gotten his fill

For I have forced breath into you
Developing your unique character
With subtle augmentations to your composition; and experience above all else

Only the most bitterly tortured fruit becomes wine of notoriety
A sadistic vintner periodically sampling the evolution of his wares

Very often the inflictions are bored by both master and slave

I feel it in you
It's the only time I do
Feel
Misery is contingent upon company

A fool's philosopher
With flawless adages and quips

He is no different

Eventually we all will be met with the contradictions of our exasperated convolutions

Then where will you be?

Why, you have been made golden!
A hopewell beacon amongst the treacherous and ******
You are now nebulous and immaculate
Like the figure encased with in the marble

Does the sculpture recall the stripping sensation induced by the artisanal hands of the craftsman?

Or is it's ears filled with the clamoring?

Ingrates and dolts who only appreciate the product rather than the steadfast passions of it's means

Amongst the gawking gazers I am indistinguishable; as you are now to me

Emulsify​ my fragments with yours
We become puree
Our mixture is pliable and capable of smoothing any blemish

A false sense of durability, like layers of plaster over diminishing foundations

A stern wind sends us to chattering and reduces us to shards

An upside-down jigsaw with so many pieces who's interlocking combinations are infinite and impossible

We beset upon this futile quest with reckless abandoned
Punitive passions emblaze our cornea and deafen our cochlea

These inflictions only intensify our other​ detection receptors
Emboldening our synapses with astroglia most hearty and foolish

In the face of self-imposed adversities; the chortling consumes us
Mole hills spur and contort; vertically and violently
Titanic crags obstructing our path and encumbering our better natures
Yet the giggling continues

Brave men will face death without question, but only those who have tasted oblivion jest at it's expense
When you feast on everything and nothing, imagination and fear are savorless against your palate

Sordid sentinels
Mechanisms, blueprinted in hedonism and swill
Completely ****** by design

We are the crusty plaque in the corners of each others lips
The coke-like residue that accumulates from the burning depletion of our crude resolve

Exhaustion smogs our atmosphere and silts your dermis
The granulation makes you coarse and curt
You find friction in all things
There is no refuge for relief
Even afloat amongst the stellar ylem, the invasive abrasion intercepts your drift

Nothing is sacred!
Nothing is truly yours!

Your inter-most thoughts scream from the windows of their cells

You have been divulged and further more, made completely bare
A sort of ****** where opinions can be made on the hue of your skeletal system
Stark and helpless; sprawled wide
Revealing every tiny nook of your crevices, giving breath and larynx to your insecurities

A vivisection

The young men and women gather around the respiring corpse
Every deffect will oust it's cause
A foreign recollection of your story
Quivering and flinching under the pressure of a razor thin plane

Blankly, they stare like bipedal bovine
Sweetness and sorrow is wasted on them
They only seek silence for the deft and ******* for the blind

Now! both have been provided!

Your glare juts wide and traps me in an obtuse corner
Varying degrees of turpitude
Pivoting around the axis
Beaming rays of optimism
Linear into the continuum, until infinitesimal
An exertion with no assertion of retrieval
A harbinger screaming into a desolate chasm

"Nothing stirs."

You only have interest in superfluous self-degradation
Pessimistic introspection
Mocking your molecular geometry
Resisting the valancing
Fearing the internal reaction
Not noble, but wholly and completely nothing
Retaining no mass or substance
Your presence in the physical world is an irregularity, an enigma

I'm reaching for you
Breaching your flesh like an apparition, a translucent figment of the shell that once contained your potential

I am one of the few
I can observe you
Your spectral glow haunts and hypnotizes me like the spiraling eyes of the cobra

"If you could witness your fate in the the third person; would you?"

I can observe me

We converge,
Like vinegar and baking soda
Erupting with my bubbling destructionism; using your vessel as a medium

Ground zero
Inconveniently located at the epicenter of my quaking misfortune

Buried alive since exhumed from the womb
Every breath shorter than the last

A pilgramage of zombies
The festering runs deep
Curdling blood
Clotting and clogging
Coagulation in the vein
Withering remnants in are wake

Cyclical contaminyation
Praying for a cure
Begging for an antidote
Sleeping with the virus

You are crank driven
A horseless carriage
Claded in bright aposematic ineptitude
Lacking modern conveniences

Sacrificing ulna and radius
Endeavoring pathos paved pathways
Posthumous attempts to reanimate your shrill stridulating passions

A mouribund effigy; a jaded figurine
Cubits, densely compressed and saliferous
Swaddled in a presageful glow
Emitted from the baleful blaze of your selfish structures

A fate befitting Edith's Lot

The ruination sweats your skin and dampens your intentions
Thermal dermal swelling
Blistering your membrane
Leaving you immobile at the foot of the Elysian ladder
Each rung strutting arrogantly upward
Loftily looming
Casting shade on a endless maelstrom

I must maintain a certain stride
My gait in a perpetual state of evasion
Deftly dodging pothole and snare

The landscape scrolls behind my silhouette, but the earth below me is less than glacial
I am transfixed

Breaching the wall of the squall

Its ceaseless variants of gray baffle and blur my vision

A wicked progenitor
Casting an opaquing shroud
It's moisture osmotically fills you with dysphoria​ and self doubt
Polluting your saccharine mixture
A homeostatic response
Propagating morose bitterness throughout

Transmuted; lewd, crude, and shapeless
Seeking to encapsulate

I am suspended with grief
Wrought beaten
Placed about the coals
Endothermic crimson coalescence

Ferrous singularity
Tempered ingots impervious
An extension of god's arm
Sledging **** showers
Compacting crash lashings
Descalling with cold fire

Not shaped but contorted
Deep sloping concavities
Who's smooth walls actuate with convections
Apexes so thin
Whipping winds would make holes of them

Quench after quench
No closer a semblance

Extruded from the stone
Womb like enclosure

My last suitable home
Surrounded by my piers

Eeking a creep
Seeping into a mold
Ardently effervescent with aptitude smoldering
Akin to the gorgeous and gaudy
Gold, diamond, and pearl
All are flawed in the raw

A perforated structure
Riddled with gaseous pockets of base desires
Rendering a slugs mass
Insignificant as deadly
Miniscule as harmful

Eliciting a bold reenactment

A raven haired imp
Rebellious heralding divine
Angelic crown
Ringlets of white and blue
Peeking fontanel
Adorned with a rose colored center

Breathlessly pleading for impact
Contact
Of any sort
The instant where you feel the most alive
Ironically, you unwittingly find.......

You never were