Bones sing soul moments.
Understand: inside, just lips, eyes:
small nature. Soft hands, unable.
Need past; unable. Brain felt mortal:
motion golden, rhythm, knowledge, thoughts.

Smile.

Maybe?


Sky abyss: laughter.
Wings lonely begin rain,
ocean attempt salty breath:

Dance!


Skin, air, long-lungs:
drink selfish!

Realise. Continue. Remember. Try
heavy sweet waves. Comfort:

Yes!


Feeling memory singing
cold bright veins; holds instead pulse-poetry.
Face silent: away-like.

Paint things. Kiss hours. Desire play. Fall truly.
Grasp emotion. Stop. Embrace smoke.
Bring childhood. Falling. Soil. Coffee.


Midnight wolf begins romance... bleed!
Separate prayer: gravity. Understanding, darling.
Sip magnificent ambition alongside decaying ribs.
Fingertips couldn't fight droplets. Must
follow moments, gone to where best clouds lie.


******* wanderlust. Swimming.
Fighting. Confused. Smiled & swallowed:


You mad scene poets.

Shuffle a deck of cards, pick out two, then explain why those two cards are at war.*
8 of Diamonds / Ace of Diamonds

Ace wasn't looking when 8 bit into a sugar packet, wanting something sweet to go with their cup of mud, too tired to grit.
Ace wasn't looking when 8 tripped over a garden hose, left on the lawn, the evidence of a green attempt, serpentine sort of setting it straight.
Ace only saw the cool in their coffee, the green in their blades, never had to open their eyes up before that dawn.
8 was there, ancestors in hand, ready to claim what it had all been leading up to, where it all began.
8 drew; Ace folded in upon themselves.
8 felt like a winner, a triumph made in the absence of mutual conflict, convinced that only one side was dealt a bad hand.
8 doesn't look when 4 wants something similar, something outside the family, refuses to see a diamond as a diamond, nothing learned.

After a summer of tree-nut allergies, you close your eyes to cross Merrimon Avenue, mouth full of sips, trying to prove that you can stay empty. If your job keeps scheduling you full-time hours for minimum-wage compensation, you will show your gratitude by eating handfuls of walnuts, hollowing your desire to spend a night on the street, with another person, eyes closed, a bed-lump for a passing car.
You spat out everything, when you saw two children running down the double-yellow line; they reminded you of waking up.
Doesn't this feel a bit tedious, some work you don't want to do?
Why have you been practicing winking, started brushing your teeth with a spirit?
You were going to buy a bus ticket for an answer, held a conversation past the minimum. Your job gives you free meals, even if it's killing you. You have places you want to go, people you want to lead away from empty.
They make a peanut-butter alternative, out of roasted soybeans, and it tastes good enough to remind you of everything you can do with a summer.
Get some rest.

You’re never getting those clothes back, the shirts that found their way into her wardrobe, covering a person you’ve seen at their most bare. They don’t belong to you, not anymore; she never belonged to you, only found her way into your covers.
You still wear pieces of her, walking down Merrimon Avenue, in one of her favorite outfits, feeling so warm that you have to go home, and change.
It’s okay.