Those drops of you
slid down my throat
Toward the entrails (where I always felt you)
like rain down a repository of truth

This Holy Hamster Wheel of the undefinable,
indefatigable, attraction...
I have no choice but to chase the unattainable

no decision but to drink that chalice
her
Aegean eyes, and text lullabies
made a mockery of free will

pull close to me, my pleasant fiction
sweet sweat and
*** smells, those love spells, languished in submission

pleasant fiction
our
*** smells, and love spells

Those drops of you (like a love unnamed)
slid down my throat
Toward the entrails where I felt you most:::
rain down a repository of truth

This Holy Hamster Wheel of the undefinable
indefatigable, attraction...
I have no choice but to chase the unattainable
her
Aegean eyes, and text lullabies

A Sermon for the Flawed

Blessed are the visions and fantasies of the morally compromised.
they manifest like a Genesis Garden.
With fruit bitten knowledge from their own meta-modernist novel.

Blessed are the incandescent
it is they who know that life is infinite... if only in increments.

Blessed are the painful lamentations, one day the world will know your poetry

Blessed are the heartbreakers, they give gravity to the pain that pulls ink to pen

Blessed be the traumatized artists, they who stand in upright in eternal defiance

in victory over their traumatizer
in victory through canvas
in victorious acrylic paint masterpieces (((a rage in refutation))).  

Blessed are the autumnal attractions,
an April Renaissance, through frost bitten winters, for those that are godly and the struggling sinners  

Blessed are the stolen hallway glances, galvanized in the explosive immersion of instant attraction...

Blessed are those who
engage
in a breathtaking taboo
surrender.
Written meticulously upon
shards of glass
from a broken moral compass.

CDH

the epilogue empties, the arc has flatlined, a judge now speaks

“your sentence is to be a windy day Eternal Tether, neither holding nor held”

This breeze. Those wind gust.
Foil flips, sunlight bouncing as it spins at sunrise... the trash is gaining traction now

you get the icons you are worthy of
and your children are sentenced to bow to  plastic pariahs repurposed as heroes

pray away the bad man, and bubblewrap the rest. do you recall that innocence girl?

it emptied from you, quivering, as a smile stole the corners of your mouth.

A near summer soaked nostalgia
sweet backseat demands
Banal Black night memory  
Shared sweat upon our hands

I pull your legs close, summon that smell
braille read breast, i’m near you, soft tactile tell
Of lust longed known of, that potion, so well
in an iris, I fear you, drip sacred, your spell

Still, it’s not your fault
magnets make no choices
Like Homeric Epics
with siren voices:::

Epilogue:I held firm to our makeshift daydream and
wrote an endless novel hoping...
can you will lucid memories true?

A crush
A raw spark of love, only as dangerous as the subsequent blaze that consumes you



              He loves her as a selfish escape
              He loves her for the promise
              of brilliant mornings
He loves her
              for the touch of her rain soaked legs, after those knee cap kisses
              she is a dashboard masterpiece,
              reclined    
              Interred with a flesh of subterranean
              brilliance
              He loves her for the chance at
              brilliance
     The Choking Charcoal effect of her eyes'
              Brilliance
      The Choice of a Chalice imbibed as he drinks between her taste brilliant

cdh

Her warm words wash over me like a dope fiend daze... other voices boorishly buzz a cackle cacophony. At best they are the background noise of your existence.

bit players (endless layers) as she comes my way

Your body pixilates in an ******* focus, it bends, projects all else slowly into your frame, the deja vu of ****** tunnel vision. I struggle to speak as I stand before you.

All others condemned, reduced to extras in a celluloid daydream
they are arrayed for your adornment  
set pieces that surround you in the cinema that is your daily divine saunter

body sacramental (those around you incidental) as she walks away

The subtext, the reflex, the ambivalent, ambient lighting
means nothing without you

my arc, my carnal ******,
any other epilogue is dystopian

cdh

Intro: Lost in the Philadelphia Cold of the twelfth month, our protagonist orients his mind in a fading frost under the p.m. blue blanket above  

Resistant Masterpiece
her flesh drawn on the back of a Western Sky:::
sketch her, my amber autumn sun descended, always wicked with winter intentions,
...bandit thoughts unending,  
...eyes watching,
...she steals another day

blushing colors infect me::: that lust contagion::: the drip drop of chromatic desire falls on a faded floor
I still see (seek) her
in all her in autumnal glory
to again be a bewitched and press perspiration upon ruby red flesh
like a favorite Baroque portrait
against the widening winter wall

Doctors Orders: Take two of these and text me in morning...

be thankful (after all something is better than nothing, right?)

better yet
satiate and salivate (side effects of the drug, but at least it shows you care)

fill my monthly prescription... (my god, the synthetic fantasies she provides)

the tantalizing **** tease of what could have been
with
promises of a RomCom script I'll never read

replicate dosage until hackneyed (then be sure to beg for more)

your body on a fishhook
your heart in a bear trap
always taken in conjunction with
a "healthy" dose
of

your true intentions
pixelated in darkness

cdh

The truncated puzzle:::

Her tongue’s truncheon sits solid
at the ready (to respond)
Her coarse heart,
pumps deftly in defiance of a mind’s eye



She is the gracile figurine

The bubblewrap warms her steady
She is porcelain smoke in a midnight room
In defiance of
any fingerprint (cryout)
... oh that visage!!!
... oh obfuscated view!!!

You must
Feign surprise when i can see right through an image of you reflected in glass


wide-eyed, unwatered and
               ::unmoved::
Her Limbal Ring, diamond stone display
still she is unsatisfied

another inward, in-word retreat.
for her braille heart       untouched

forever she fears punctuation

Endings.

Immolation
She sadistically sacrificed my ego at the alter of her immolating femininity, like Siddhartha happily stuck on The First Noble Truth...

humanity is the global apex predator and lust the advantage

she stays seated
the czarina’s favorite ballerina

Looks from her
this oculus vantage cuts the gravity of her absence
green, gaze born, burnt in her iris horizon

Detonate the  
galaxies we once groveled to

in defiance
fear the pen of God no more:::
Sharpen the senses (in the silent ether)

there
in a room alone
look at the mirror,
get out of the way
so you could see yourself

Rescue the trembling
low hanging fruit of our annihilation
Dance in the sparks of our
 daybreak demise
Feel the pinch of the burn as it blinds you

with new eyes
suffer the saving grace wisdom
fate (life) is sadistic
pain is palpable
so let your flesh grow recalcitrant


free will is there if you want it

You Detonated my  
galaxy now i grovel to you

I fear the pen of God no more:::
Sharpen your senses (in this silent ether)

you were always there
in a room alone
in the mirror, refusing to get out of the way
so you could see yourself

You’re trembling
Shaking, as I taste the fruit of our annihilation
spark our demise as you ******  
arch your back at daybreak  
pinch, burn, it binds you

those eyes
the eternal grace of your wisdom
I surrender,
sadistic
when the pain is pleasurable
the light on your flesh glows violently   

free will is there if you want it:::
now bid goodbye to those incoherent
Bob Dylan daydreams

cdh

Waiting: Her ******* rest upon layered lacquer::: the tides of her hips arch high, press and point needle North, in a nascent newborn lust


she is infectious in her descent... she draws down, slowly South... unaware I see her there... I am frozen, wanting only to crawl toward the taste

the hammer of my heartbeat plays silent symphonics, she holds herself, moaning, to the sounds of a harbor rhythm:::


i make my way toward her

this man's approach is unique.
Calculating the quiver of anticipation::: the man is instinct, the man
grows hypnotized.

The pendulum::: the zig zag::: our protagonist reads her inner thighs.
The vine of his attraction now extends to where those thighs meet. 

She is ready.

In a dusty room, dark, in your heart’s blindspot, right there, behind the fold...

there sits

The untiring, my untying, a flame, fatal, that preys, pierces, pulls and dances down...

down, go down, then see the smoldering and  flowered flame... a fire that passes into once humbled hearts, stuttering till it shoots, straight to a shop work and sunken soul, it presses, presses, push into paste, now all to ash... with ash it chokes, with ash that never ask if it may that blind you... I cough when I remember your scent, choking... choking, choking, bound and blue by all those that dare not defend, those that dare to pretend that they could haunt like you,

haunted damnation  , when I dare to dream that diurnal oasis daydream...

daydream illusions, illusory in that final form, fill up the day, flicker flame, flicker unfaded forever more, moreover may we emerge, emerge again, each day resilient, always arisen, rising again and again unbroken; unbroken and unbound as the spherical shadow sits against an aged and golden summer sky...

hold, held now, the grip, that grip, a grip of a million thoughts, the grip of a gaggle of lunatics; the lunacy of those madmen screaming, maniacal men with their long claws...

“Come now”, I pull, pull away, scratched but unsullied, away with my tense and tethered thoughts, thoughts of a woman; where is she?

“oh woman, woman of pure and pallid beauty; tell me of tomorrow, pretend to portend, promise me it is there burning so still inside you”...

still, still I stood, stood inside that stillness, so sullen and so clear eyed in the realization that, I would eye a thousand faces just to see you...

you, you stole, stole the thunder, and laughed at lightning, with your hips held down, writhing when I witnessed, witnessed and watched you with a holy cutting cold glance, insisting i ”hurt you in a good way”, pleading for more, in the sacramental haze of an eternal disorder...

now willow, wisp, widen, wake and open my once violent, violet, and envied eyes... because I, I was empty, emptied and forever falling, into the gravity of you, you and your irises aflame pulling me hard like 10,000 planets, each with 10,000 suns, sparked when I saw you stroll so serpentine in red *******...

pull, pull back now drawn, drawn in and dripped like warm candle wax... down, down, do it, dance away like those storied flames, for martyrs mind not the Solomon sacrifice of the final flame’s immolation ...

naive, naive as the spring, naive as children caught in an illusory and smokey future... the churlish, chided, child’s lament, lamenting now those souls, our souls, souls sewn cold, souls once so elusive...

trapped in a vacuum

a souls will burn until extinguished... go, gone, gone, unable to burn, to blast a fire, for in a furnace, a furnace gone cold, it’s where we are found **forever jealous of the once animated, deoxygenated unheated and hateful heart

Prologue... Voyeurs Notes: Two lovers entwined in the blue black room of the ante meridian (a.m.).


Under a cutting ******* moon
he enters you
You took him in with Pavlovian drooling eyes. He took your innocence and you shrieked in dripping compliance:::
Only that sickle overseer in the night sky bared witness
to the end of my pleasant fiction

Halogen orb
Halcyon days

Left only with the abscess of the apparition
that was “us”
and a
Phantom pain for the never was

Perhaps she is
somewhere
quieted by enormity of it all
Life in fast forward, a fallow future, a vertical victim of his ***** ****

Predawn...
Coldness without catharsis on a cobblestone street  

she is again spread before him,
he’s already tired of her, and again that ******* fading crescent
watches:::  
she’s wishing for a flashback, a do over,
a dream of sanity before her teardrop salinity (it could’ve been us)

But here I stand eternal
Butchered by your lunar lunacy::: alone
Against the backdrop of a pockmarked sky

... Dispatches from Dante's 7th Circle:
4:15 a.m.
your talons tore at another's neck*

a feast of flesh
a
favored treat
that lack of brains
but the ego's sweet

pheromones permeated... the smell of ***
divergent innocence
with every flex

bring napkins now for that forbidden drip
as you lay satisfied with a bitten lip

*an index finger knew where to find you
pinky gravity, a room that's moon blue
thumb and pointer, begin to saunter
no ring to cover
just a middle, taunt her

I want her look of unholy deliverance

that moment
Suspension In A Centrifuge:::  
That perfect tunnel vision:::

My Dress rehearsal for Idolatry
bind me, a dolt, adult
Call me perpetual adolescence
deoxygenated default, setting in blue

so set me as the center of your universe
***** my temple, ego ******* edification

a dullards magnum opus, an apoplectic deity

when the script become predictive,
post or pre-mortem
predicated upon Walmart storylines
and nine live felines...

but we are bound by blue light specials to be
***** plain, vanquished vanilla

in a box store store morality, box store love, box store exsanguination
a new metric of mortality
the new math for the bloodless

I’m not of this time
Future traveler on vacation in the Land of Lost, a ship out of fuel, a world confusing, 30th century fool
I came to observe blind beings who bend to the will of a surrounding chaos

After 1000 years adrift... Tired of the creeping tedium, I’ve become one
Tired of Logging anime patches and social media confessionals for the folks back home, I became one

You see, 21st century tragedy **** is big in the future, along with Akira and the selected letters of Eugene O’Neil

I’m lost, tell my subordinates
Confused, no need of a map, I know the coordinates, but I’ve become one

You’re not supposed to fall in love on these missions
Just take manga pics, perhaps monitor your fission

But the eyes I’m lost in
A fading autumnal green
I had to see her, I had to be seen
A violation but I’m trained,
still I’m weak, a mind so ingrained
(I am one of you now)

While drunk counting slightly smeared, sparkles on glass glittered lips, I found myself: in love
I told her: “The wine taste on your tongue is sacramental”
A feigned profundity, it’s incidental
(a convenient disguise for my insanity)

She doesn’t love me back. But I found myself

cdh

Domineering padawan
Does it tire...
Your
Wrist..
To twist..
The Fabian
knife?

With a curtsy (and courtesy)
you...
Collect from among those
cardiac pieces:::
... calloused and cool though you may be:::

Vacuum the ventricles:: until theres
a void:::
a neat freak knows no need for
Vascular residue.

A match worn tango
told long ago...
Sulfur enigma, ensnared then engaged,
But enflamed (inflames?)

avenue sounds are never agreeable, ignore the drift,
ignore the hum,
ignore the suburban neophytes in the city lights (I never did care much for hipsters).
ignore rapid eye movements, the flush red face, ignore the snapshots of you that adorn my semi-sleep state

I stare at my ceiling and see the cobblestone summer streets you once graced, long ago in the eternal occident, I want to ignore but I’m so very boozed, in a blue lucid slumber:::

eyes closed::: my head spins and sleep begins with the tidal delirium of dopamine drips, your legs, your hips, I’m drowning a bit, doused in a sanguine sweat inside a fantasy (**** I’m dreaming of you)

Synaptic friction
she is a pleasant fiction  
flash/sparks segue a dormant memory ,
the two of us riding familiar highways::: she gazes at me with her usual emerald encased ocular torment, those limbal rings cast aspersions at the last vestiges of my will power, until, I’m done, done in by the divinity of her lips:::

There is no end to (your) energy
It even finds me here::: in my dystopian  dream (eternal)
now
an inescapable, myopic curse
(nocturnal):::
the nightmare of not having you near

Awake, I roll over to clutch for the pacifier of your comfort (violent midnight)
I find only a fragrance,
i flail, searching, when those flashbacks fall short
isolated into the banality of bedsheets and pillows pleats

(the retrograde nature of my reality, now readily apparent)



cdh

Polypolarity
The glorious venom of transformation partitions the (death of) excitement in her eyes. The lies in her vinegar voice tether a shopworn tale

Aimless, then sweet, cold and now caustic, forever formless, a feint felt on a whisper:::
“Ladies and Gentlemen I present to you the eighth wonder of the world!!!... headlining the one and only Heuretic Houdini
pinning her down
only works in the bedroom”

She did not know who she was (so how could I) It was her greatest strength, something to be pitied  and pined for ::: perpetually ephemeral,
the eternal curse.

Polypolarity dead eyed at a wedding
Polypolarity on a cold street in Blue
Polypolarity spoke two "I love you's"
Polypolarity never knowing what's true..

The glorious venom of transformation partitions the (death of) excitement in her eyes. The lies in her vinegar voice tether ancient chains to a shopworn tale.

She is seamless, then sweet, cold and now caustic; forever formless, a feint felt on a whisper:::

The unending unknowable, my perfect pathogen... I loved to watch her work a room

“Ladies and Gentlemen I present to you the eighth wonder of the world!!!... headlining, the one, the only, heuristic  Houdini...
pinning her down
only works in the bedroom!!!”

She did not know who she was (so how could I) It was her greatest strength, something to be pitied and pined for ::: perpetually ephemeral,
the eternal curse.

Polypolarity dead eyed at a wedding
Polypolarity on a cold street in blue
Polypolarity spoke two "I love you's"
Polypolarity never knowing what's true..

You hide (fear) your feelings
better than me (I)
fetishized flirtatious banter
(that is) cavity syrup sweet

I’m contemplating the calculus of your eyes
mind ******
by the shell game Sudoku/chattel slavery chess of our distance


Your movements a projection film noir  
my favorite cinematic fetish
The flesh?
The mind?
... a thousand stolen glances (for the thousandth time I love you)

What would (should) you have me (i) do
I'm an open book (chest)
I could write (carve) our (your) story (name)
on a thousand lonely pages (my heart)

The gracile figurine

bubblewraped in warmth:: protected
She is smoke in a midnight room
Defying
any fingerprints:::  vulnerability, for her, a vile, repressive word
oh that visage
oh obfuscated view... sacrosanct shadow in the dark

Her
Lenticular frames
Sit wide-eyed, unwatered and
               ::unmoved::
cold victory of another day.
another inward, in-word retreat.
for her braille heart       untouched

still she fears punctuation
                               Endings.

I guess for her it’s the thought of losing    
                                     hope

11:10.                    Sideways

an apoplectic Homeric epic.

She faces from me, she never spares me, not even still, when seated sideways

my favorite foldaway wooden chair, now scent embedded, rhythmic rocking, her legs at 10:10

The clock said 11:11


                              That Curl

Her tiny smile cleavers, cuts, wakes the room and then carries the text of a thousand love letters,

but I sit unacknowledged

My mouth makes its daily pilgrimage
A sacramental routine to the Divine
She resonates in eyes and mind
But that's a tale for another day


On a pedantic quest
He is meticulous, a perfectionist
In nothing
But this...

Stop now:: hold me at the hips
she is my anticipation in alabaster
so Sadistic, brooding, now my near biting mouth moves...
“please?”
projecting points, two sinful
hipbone temptations
as he traces
soft skin with *******
in the serpentine tradition
Of fallen
Eden Grace
he knows she feels the same

Her chest pounding, sweat shakes
a daytime ****** for that salination:::
coyly she recoils
her toy taught and long since conditioned for the taste

it all seems so familiar
A mind's race to the vault of all his ***** thoughts of her
”Now to play in real time what was run through
in those shower wet ideations”

cdh

I long for the reign of the visual (her first look of the day)
The pitter patter stampede on my conscience
quickly softened with a touch; such is the cotton effect
of her flesh:::
still she isn't here

vile is the curse of distance
the struggle to be close to her::

the want knows
what it's like to be beatified in accession
ingratiated in proximity
inculcated by a smile

when inches feel like miles
continents should be easy
still I panhandle for a word
dumpster-dive for images
Forever searching for you, a salve of perfection, frozen in time

There is an arrogance in the required syllables needed to describe her grace

cdh

Gliding her fingers from soft to tight
The gilded marionette makes a move familiar
Around my neck, between my legs
She pull/plays my manhood the one who pegs
The tips of index, middle, ring and pinkie
A dismissive look,
with an intent to shrink me

Chased by insanity
Chased by a pseudo-chaste ****-ring tease
yarn controls my escape,
ears to ignore my pleas  
strings of sadistic strings of laughter  
strings saunter strings of master
strings of *******, yet still i walk her
as a ghostly orbiting satellite stalker

******* purple::: smile lust sensation
As the puppeteers rope cut my circulation

Only then can she strum her favorite tune
The Pinocchio Waltz played on a five string loom
She tunes her string with every finger
A dismissive giggle plays the part of singer

The middle for the daily “*******” because she can

The ring will be for another man

The pointer lets you know her needs

The pinkie for the soul that bleeds

The thumb is for the empress’ judgement  

Till she slaps you down, (I ******* love) her ****** bludgeons

Tepid tap water
runs like my blood
born of a cloven kingdom

Shopworn Heartbeats
and the mimicry of fleshy brilliance
this is true evil taunting me
Cry dry a cavalcade of muses
materialized
in ***** born vice

::: but they are gone now

no more
Orderless ******* sprayed in synthetic passion
On the icy stares of idiosyncratic basement love screens

Dopamine hits fire like crack pipes as I join the
Legions of low fidelity fellowships

in out, in out,  
a pain of preposition repetitions
teaches the celluloid torture of ocean green eyes
  
::: I take only truth from her sea foam gaze (and from her lips a lonely lie)


Is the imitation of repeated mistakes still the
sincerest form of flattery?

Are the cutting hematic glances of invisable ink
designed to Draw and Quarter me?

If so, let the blood letting begin miss

With a sketched Steel Heart , I puppy dog pursue you with a pirouette pen, spun  into your Iron Maiden.

and as Thumb Screws and finger blues
replace those bite, **** fantasies, I marvel with appreciation at my favorite mistake.

No one does cold like her

cdh

My
lens is myopic
as the lunar lights reveal a replete and sallow stillness
I close my eyes... stuck on her


Our
slow motion
Zapruder film flesh hostilities play out
They
Lurch further toward me from the worst part of my mind

This is an
ante-meridium rerun wrought familiar

Those slow motion frames serve as a reminder
and I tell myself
“not again”

It’s always destroy, withdraw, withdrawal, return
No thrill, no endgame,
but we (i) play it out just the same

Renewed, resolvent, arisen,
(my) stake is wooden,
(she is) wet, crimson lipped and collapsing
Rest coldly now, unmoved upon a moribund midnight heart

These Thoughts of her feed on me in the night.
Images that prowl, project and play like celluloid

wanting her I toss and turn,
till, I lay,
languishing, and losing
lifeblood
lost and dreading daybreak
a living dead type of drained

Forlorn Feelings brought back from
damnation
soulless and predatory
This vampire lust won’t die.


But still I doubt Nosferatu had an *** like her’s

A Reading from the Book of Puppets

Her
Ventriloquist venom is never ending
engineering every word I should say

Pity me as her words drip down from my mouth
Look to me... my paralyzing awkwardness admonishes all attempts at paucity  

the ***** of vernacular continues
Manifest as a million babble born words
look at her and you’ll know why
Would you sell your soul
if you spoke staccato and she smiled sadistic?

And when she’s not there
I lay prostrate on the railroad tracks
of her impending presence
restrained
and retrained in the tailisman rope of your arrival
Look there now, a Tongue tied in knots, a mind firing (shots)
I am reduced
she is labyrinthine, in both style, and substance,
a sapiosexual maze, a soothing syrup mixed with
biter bile


why then does
nothing feel better than to see her smile
Why validate her pleasure
with my defeats?
Stuck and ****** into a singular melodious smile, the tune of which I can’t help but dance to

Why? Because at the end of the day

your eyes jut out
candelabras in defiance the night
notifying the world
of all you want but have yet to receive
a shallow existence .... a marked man... a million morbid motifs
made of mucus and stuttered star beams

You are that rare being, a glimpse at myself both wretched and alluring
A soul already tainted::: still I seek to embrue, the boredom
I am voiceless
in this decaffinated life

a tendril of hair
a woman domestic
a shadowland chaser
a light that’s poetic
The addictive tape worm of my soul

cdh

My Moonlight archipelago,
my escape
I approach the buttress of boredom better known as your doorstep

I pull you in...
your hair stretches from clenched fingers and what follows down to the feel of my fingertips is religious in nature
under a broken blue street lights, i cradle inward, immersed now in infinite youth of lust... a flash of light... street lamps lit now a Coca Cola Red ... the color plays, a chromatic cinema fills through
your follicles

I spin you away momentarily and envy my shadow now pressing upon you

we are Cathars,
heuristic heretics,
learning love through touch in a hate filled land (the pesky conformity of late-stage Western Civilization)

still

Your ether look absolves me of this world’s sins
beam raw:
render quiet:
Baptize me in the esoteric and verbose stares, the *** is drawn on your lips, so mouthy, but saying nothing inside the long Chaplin silence,
you vacillate
and I’m vacant
my voice removed
spent, empty in the Valentino deadpan stares 


Post Script: The gaze gave conversations: conversions still silent in her looks, a living Bible's worth of words in those sacred scripture holy eyes.