Some people want to draw the world upon their skin
But I see it there already
Some people stamp their favorite messages down arms and legs
But I see lovely verbage fall
around the edges of my veins
If my breast is a canvas
my bones an easel frame
my mouth will scatter paint
my eyes drip silver rain
to show you I am full and finished
A Universe
my name

Can you feel the caress of the Northern wind, as it screeches across the baron plateau of the anthropological crack and strokes the contours of your oily façade?
The slippery blackness of this gale interferes with the propagation of ambivalent feminine intertwines.
Herbal remedies have cast their fragrance into the arms of Ashtoreth.
Therefore, you must now investigate the callous and empathic chords of my legitimacy, and I promise to blend my classical resonance with your deplorable soul.
If this is a public inquiry, then I must set sail from the dock and traverse unchartered horizons, with my tank filled with the required fuel.
Let us placate the earth, together as we unleash extravagant ceremonies of ****** ferocity.
We have swam across the laughter of the Sea of Clouds in this lunar expression of divorce.

thoughts dancing like kites
whipped around in a fierce hurricane
feelings like black, rushing seas
throwing waves to the rocks, indignant.
expressing words the only way you know how
with your head thrown back, your eyes squeezed
shut. and screaming everything that you've ever known
to the blackness of the night-time sky