To be a passing thought
in your mind
Softens mine
Slowly drifting,
amongst the rest
as if in a traffic jam
They might have more urgent
destinations or
purpose, and
though I may take the next exit
The idea of your road being
reserved, just for me
Ignites my heart and
accelerates it's love

A fleeting yet tender brush of luck
A new face whose structure poses foreign wonder
A worldly woman,
whose frames suggest a commanding authority,
puts people in seats, her prescence priority
Squished eyes paired with your
unchained smile
Unbottled bliss, she gives me this
A butterfly that chooses to rest on your arm or
the sun streaking through select delicate leaves

Scenery suggests her horizons
are unquenched,
uncharted beats
Spin the globe watch it spinning not stopping
Your eyes mapping, beginnings developing
Conquer spirits, I say conquer them all!
Your voice echoes throughout when it's a room not a hall
I have heard your voice
Once
The remainder, blaring and popping
from a record within, the only record
The rest warped beyond comprehension

Your hollowed essence lives on
Weekend residency on my eternity's beach
where dreams shuffle and shout
Approaching me with a hand full of satiable scarlet
Archives from your vineyard or
acquisitions from my persistent parasite
He gnaws
on all reasonable forms of sense left
dizzying upstairs
in the manic untethered halls

Logic's fleet
engages in a hail of doubt and reason
Lovers meet
defined by a wandering fool of a mind
Let me cling onto this deranged dream,
romanticise this idea of
rabid romance and
give us this broad canvas
where I'll scratch and paint our
swan song, lavishly
The coda eases us into the horror
A bow to my creative endeavour and
set sail to sizzle into the pit
of two-bit death, my dear
Our time draws near
The cognitive hands strikes,
lids are now up

This woman is fake
she exists to me in pictures

Beneath the hallowed structures
I do not roam
I roam in the dictation of any breeze
cool, gentle, light
Statistics read one lover's plight
A three-act farce in which
he bottles his chance for romance
It's suggested that he is me
and I are him, though
I disagree

She did it like it was underwater
explosion in the ocean
A dozen or so passerbys cast no
concern, that is when
the dozen or so fish rise up
fried in a familiar fatality
They gasp, not at me
but the fish
you see,
There is a brutality in the reality
of nature
You too would gasp at the dead deer
but would shrug off my demise, my dear
Death exists in multitudes
we are blind to those that decay within
and wither away in the name of sin

She shot my head underwater

Muted monstrous bang
minimalizing
it's effects
minimalizing our moments
Contract killer
on your way to collect your long-awaited bank
My stringless marionette glides along the riverbank
tell the flies their meal is ready

Will you off the
next one? Will you
give them a painless
end?
Or will you make him taste
the cold steel for an
excruciating number of
minutes