I look at you lying there!
Appearance,
innocent and sublime.

I wonder for a moment
if watching is a crime!

Shadows cast upon your face,
as a lone candle
dances with the wind.

Chiffon twisting and parting
as if teasing, creating loving
visions in my mind.

Stirring for a moment
you roll onto your side.
I am left reflecting
on when our lips collide.

your outstretched arm
it searches,
you realise I am not there

Patting softly on a dent
I visualise you thinking of me
the day I unknowingly went!
(c) Robert Kingston 7.10.15

That day I sat
naked and
                   alone
water collapsing upon my spine
acidic or compelling?
cradling what I thought was my hands
within themselves
and waiting for daylight to break me.
I was already broken

decrepit in fact.
caressing substance as supplement
the figurines of moving reality
plaguing consciousness
As     drips
                         drops
        fell
                     struck
My initiative was no longer to cleanse
or ease
but to forget,
God oblidge me
          please
ghosts of armies amidst armistices
raging with questioning calamity
every minute
every        second

It was easy
to hear and see it
placid           to act
as if gum on a shoe
was used and trashed
but stuck somewhere new
               disgusting

Meanwhile
this water
troublesome with cleanliness
corrodes my cadaver
(Cadaver, because it seems that way)
Blood runs with it
and overtakes the pigment
like color from the sponges
I’d used for the color the needle left
instead of creating

life in color
death in color
feeling in color
There were none

unnamed and buried
internal pieces of me
              Extracted
with simplicity
by mouth
and flushed
to not exist
               ever
to anyone
but deep in the realm, of conscience
hidden
and    drowning

Hands of rugged mysteries
typing letters    fast
counting down the minutes
time is standing still
  creating distant fantasies
within a neverland
knowing I will not fulfill
dreams and wishes   true

money spent
buying smiles
approval, but demise
for paper only melts in fire
souls go somewhere else

what is worth
effort
daily
for only
bones will
endure

confusion overcomes me
I'm at a loss
tossing money
wasting life
sitting in this cube
typing

You can run through to the end of it
pretend a bit that
the hurt eases,
pain ceases,
Strontium 89 has the line on it,
a chemical bite might
do the trick.

Or just go into exile
die once a day
for a while anyway, but
love's curt
tells you it's hurt
when you haven't a clue.

You can run through and pretend
or just end it
a bit like the lights going dim,
Knock, knock,
no answer
nobody's in.

We have to do it,
some are successful and
me,
I just blew it
straight through the red stop and the next stop's the last stop where the pit stop's the pit and you can go through to the end of it because no one will believe you when you tell them you blew it and who knew it,
not me.

Exile's a paradise,
but we still want to throw the dice for a double or quits or if and until the cap fits,
pretend for a bit.