For all--the hunger wishes,
Launched from sky lilies
We lead them to descend.

And I guide your soul-swishes
Upon-a-dance of moon sprinkles,
Time keepers laugh in pretend.


Interlocked hearts causing--

It's
       Myriad of rotations.
Candles sing beyond our ponders,
And pedestal gazes.


Take with you my meadows
Mellowing tears.


We
      Us
           (You and I)


Seek patient sparrows...
As they squawk; silently,
With words, fragments

These love-abyes.


Kept constant awakenings
Watching, thoughts of you,
Strengthen...


My thimble of complete.

Yearning--

I await...

Red washes off
Our faces,
And stitches tie
Fingers-in-bindings

--Forever

Two foot-daisies
Hanging talons
With horse hooves

Trample lightning
Silhouettes on marble
Trees-

And we bleach
Sun-skin--

Between your toes-
More or less.

Staring at endemic
This aráneam friend; crossing-
Few limbs attempting.

Spindle weaving spigots; as-
He levitated eighteen--
Appendages, bewildering
Dainty beauty.

It was his connection--
To sound that; perplexed.
Me-as-the-human.

Watching, watchers, tick.

Patiently pretending my dear-
Arthropod; that scares.

I've contained my
Soul-in-a-cardboard
Jar--
Watching its eternal weep

Until irises blind-themselves
Because barely shoulder length
Hours have passed.

We wield grayling hair
Though wingspan arms
Now pad this jar with
Silence and broken voices
Each-day--

Sleeping magic
Find no notes
With nobody-
As of being as beings and beings

We are the-
Unattainable
Lampshades--flickering
On and off-
In-and-out
With
And without.

--And her skin
Is all I can breathe.

I write in cartilage
Memoirs just to feel
Unfeeling.

But we love unfairly
Until digging nails
Into walls--

Becomes beautiful

We-the-unreachable

It's been an hour,
A measurement of time
And thyme--

All the clocks are breaking
Somehow-the-hands
Aren't moving.

So I've been waiting,
Patiently in this hour-
-Of never passing
To feel oxygen

-With my hands again
And water in my lungs.

Hessian chains unbind--

Us.

And we lay
Coating names
On clouds.

Tilting titles with
Rainbow scents.

I leaf blackthorn-
Mythology to
Fungi tears; weeping moss
From stone.

Though skies smudge--

Empty.



She shows me the softness
Of bramble.
As we hold a song of siren sighs-
Silhouettes pulse art.

And I tingle lightly
In caring flames.
Although almost never speaking.
She forms white-wishes

Inbetween my heart; my head.

Its autumn biloma
And spring-bile holocausts--
I love them both differently-

While we scream at mountains
To hiccups that show-the-buds-
Of leaves to lions.

This love is pinstripe
-Daggers making femur bone
Candles,

With silk weavers and-
Asterisk ribbons,

But one--
Is more
​Friend than
Louver.

Clouds speak
With lunar light,
As droplets
Slither from gravity.

Ambers; whites; greys; blacks
Slowly blurring boundaries
In tornado fashions.

My bag of mani-fes-tations
Drips blood quietly
While they kiss; coldly
As if forever existed.

I gave them intestine
Necklaces, and hung them from
My tree-
To make decorations.

After cerebral dancing
Their brains were gone,
But wax filled eyes-
Crafted pumpkins.

--Now I wait
-For-the-knock
Trick-or-treat?

Orchard scents- frothy
Callowing to winter
Mammoth months

Procrastinate reflexes
-With extra-terrestrial soil
Chanting souls.

Breathing infernos
Captured; though
In a form-
Of hearts and heralds.

She'd been dressing-empty-tears
-Again.
And the chalice we
Shared as friends,

Now Shivers as
She eats bramble dishes
I express to noone forlorn
Memories applauding to echoes
Collapsing--

'Empty everlasting rooms.'

She's weeping upon her pillows
While the wardrobe creeps outside
To visit meadows; trees
From wence it came.

I'm digit-ally connected to nothing
Except my duvet whose keeper of secrets
And my phone which never rings-

Except to greet the winds, as all things wither without--

To dust.

'I should be dead'


Said the sleeping-
Sadness--
Trying to speak blind
With cayman lips.

This dust is different
Lingering internally-
Flailing at unchangeable.

There were pieces,
Like me--but-
Crafted from puzzle
I left them inside-the-clouds.
On the pathways-
And with her skin-

-Though the atmosphere stole them.

My familiarity had gone-
And now--
All I have,
Is singing carcinogens,
Gargling on numb.

I
The viral precipice,

Of epileptic terminology.


Stare into eclipse

Light bestowed.



On sins…

As solitary silence

Begins to forget disease.






And I began to think…



Maybe this is how

I’m meant to be.

Feet mar soot
As they ask tip-toeing
Gravity--

Why-

I feel nothingness
In my bones
Sipping calcium
From old skeletons.

-Now

Close your eyes,
Because this story
Has lost belief.

And trees burn sesame
Seed strings,
-You-understand-endings

Screaming oceans
Collecting-depressive-
Humming birds,

Unwilling to-flap-
Their wings--

Nowadays-everywhere
Tastes like burnt tongues
And bursting blisters

Trying for brighter days.

Blurry leaves a blowing
In the wind-
Belching to blackbirds
Pulling sadness from
Teeth--

Blood; drinkable-
Blindness-

Spits mythology with
Atoms saying,
Admantium dreams-
There's-an-ocean
Sway--

Sweeping beneath
The soul-and I
--And I

Forget--

My fate bestowing
Feet amidst shelves
Made of shin.  

To an uncentered
Head as centerpiece.

A feather fell--

Tumblers twirled slowly
To devolve-
Finger-faces.

Around this world
Of out stretched nails.

They were pure red with mere seconds,
Though tendrils fumbled for periods more.

We could fit in between-
Folder-bindings.

These were concealed
By blue branches--
Because the skies had
Tripped over.

And wishes were skulked
From memory lane.

This--
This where
Only space existed.

I should have worn my stilts.

--It's time
To titter my-ribcage
Concealing-an-eyelids-
Truth,

Begin loosening your
Constriction of me.


--I'm lonely, Much-more-
So than twiddling thumbs.

Ignoring precipice isn't
The problem--
Knowing always, it's here
And found at ease.

****'s samples of egg yolk.

Maybe-that's-why,
So many fear this.

At extension, I adore it-
Relish inside intestines,
Made of glass--
Legs.


I'm the-observer.
The-Watcher.
But now--

I need-
--I need

Something more,
Than distance.

Ceramic burdens
Box these in.

The Wither-ings.

This--
This is for an overdue
'Heart'
That-barely-feels-
Moments

When voice chord waterfalls
Are strangling bones from life.
I construct the smoke
We breathe-

When peaceful I'll spindle
Gills upon my neck,
Hoping to become part fish.

Even though it's crusting eyes.
With re-readble.
For me wishing on unfeasible.

Teeth carve each
Spinal column from
You-- and
The distress that follows

Becomes-violin-chess-pieces,
Lining
Stomach's skin for love.

I play with fingerless hands
But my lungs are
Silicon infested

So I search trachea
Storms that
Craft sound from
Glass-panel maces.

Snow Falling on
Blue bells long gone
Meadows upon land vast
Aching for miles...

Of superficial beings,
Trees
Vegetation
Slow to even tide
Winds

Perfectly flawed crisp flake
Down on,
An object bound
In open white.

A fleck of peach
Amidst placid weather
Winter is forever

...Holding...

Pieces of love
In decay..
And as the creeps become
Crawlies; come out to play.

They each emerge from its mouth with only peace.

The human remains in silence

Decades aren't waiting
For our centuries to think.

--As she sings- violet
Zebra sticks,
Dinner; dancing
Kisses.

We lost secretly
To the severity
Of dreaming never-evers,

I'll deny them for her
Because I belong
With the wind she
Carries carefully in her hands.

I was the chancellor of time
We ask the breadth of why?
Inside my mind.

And she gives me an
Always ten pence piece
In answerings.

There's blood-
Its warm as it dribbles
Melan-choly with the floor
Half somber,

Its changing things slowly
Brok-er-ing gravity-

There's cruor
Incanting elixirs
On never-read
Centipede's fiction

And we stir softly
For-never and always
As the slabs begin
To grow--

Cold.

It's-similar-salted.
Grain-
Kissing friction in my chest.

She's a glint of missing--
Harmonies,
Half composed; nearly
Finished alphabet-
Auras.


Coppicing eloquence as
Sanctuary sits-
Chirping on shoulders,

--Symbiosis.

Sharp-sand rubs,
Time--
Into hanker-chief glass.

It's everlasting tumours
And overburdened-
Corridor cells

Tormenting me with
Lexicon sorrows--

I keep kissing entrails
Searching -searching
Demons for microphone heat.

There's an echo--
Imitation...

Here where empty space lives.

--Breathes.

A shell of a former-anterior me.

Tingled once,
With aspirations until
I retracted into
Siphon-like demons.
Breathing umbilical cords
Casting contagion.

Riposte; for cures
As their existence is fain.
While ignoring there properties.

I've been consuming
Blood from others,
And wearing their husks
Because their personalities
Could-also be mine.