Don't you want to take a tug at me?
A sultry stab possibly?
Just enough to deplete our energy?
Miles ran half heartedly
Breathing hastens
Exasperation dichotomy.
Lime infused.
Blood Whiskey for days.

Baby just lean into me
Tricks of the trade that all seem
New and Chic,
Necking games
And outright novelty
Sweater weather feeling incredibly.

Neon bodega serenade
Flamenco much unlike Miles
More envy induced shangrala
Sketches. Davis.

"Man, if we only bottled up that essence..."

There was a fenced in electric flourish
Limbo-ED outside the cannery;
Whose father left penny stains
Under the sink?
In Mexican Stand off fashion they ******* iced each other.

Jovial mess on bed encapsulates heartburn diarama
a fresh coat Bismuth Business man with codeine red sweet stains on his dockers
3am Dharmic ranting
"job well done Wednesdays"
and "feel good Fridays"
Moronic howling immediacy
immediately vibrating cell walls within the twenty-something aged voice box device.

Burly chest galavant
push up to get the muscle fat
lean, and impress upon
the natural on-and-on
leave the face unscathed along
Have to be outside
Outside where it's most safe
ascend the incline just before the nightshade
lose your technology in the primordial Koi Fish Pond in oxymoronic fashion and let the nature of this dream leer at you from the area down below.

Old beaten path, bent backward on its axis acting like a scientific textbook projection map.
Becoming something impossible to traverse even for expert woodsmen or a genius of a certain variety that is imbued with Zoom Zoom PED's, just enough red wine, or some self appointed enlightenment that "never failed me before"
Ignoring all traces of anxiety, disregarding inhibition, conquering every whim and mental roadblock desperately vying for success and representation as SOMEone instead of everyone else who writes in blue ink and drinks their coffee black and hides in plain sight and doesnt care what other people think and watches primetime reality television programs and believes in Jesus Christ and chews with their mouths closed and keeps their finges clean.

The Path
remains forever unbeaten
how far we get along it is our legacy that no one ever gave a **** about until we wrote about it.

On the occasion of downpour and discomfort
I've a raincoat fit for me.
You couldn't imagine it's a person
or embodiment of admirability.

Disguised as a Magpie feathered shirt
it is a wonder so many can see
and pick apart its components with assertion
ending its existence so effortlessly.

With the arrival of mind manufactured hurt
unlike any I've ever seen
I begin to imagine the immersion of my spirit in credibility.

I fell in when all encompassing dread peaked
and the tank was arid nothingness, absolutely.
Feeling so ******* sorry for my brain, and it's stem
surrounded by meat and physics and 80% water; under treachery of psyche
a calamine coward shaking hands with the people
attempting change, attempting decisions, never attempting novelty
and always senseless in the presence of evil friends