It all works....
    The way is should.

Whipping the day
Like lashings to the body,
Exclusive to where
You found yourself alone
In the prison of the mind,

It all works.....
    The way it should.

Tell me where you found
Yourself,
Away from me and the vivid
Yolk of slavers rejoices,
Don't tell me what I already know...deeper thoughts
Reside...

It all work.....
I suppose....
The way it should,

   Tell me where the problem
Surrenders to the solution
At the end of the barrel
    Take from me the side arm
And I will reload my mind
Trap the soul and win
Your body at the cost
Of time's reflection,

I suppose,
It all works.....
The way it could,

But where is the just
When I just got here
To my trial, tale
Of two thieves,
And I am locked away from
A grim reality,
Perception at its most gruesome,
Where we all never were,
This is normal,

It supposed to work,
The way it could,

Mentally programmed
To a bitter state of mind.

The ink turns to cream,
Silence loud, the demons scream,
For chaos of the night,
Has passed over to the light,
The paralysis of my slumber,
Remedied by a woman of wonder.

Unlike the Passions
Beyond encirlcled romance,
I know friend,
What winds have sung,
This the sun's inflation
Over scorched tears
And the boomerang desire
Crystallised the moment
I  leaned in and the infections
Of ending a material of
Friendship,
A new particle born between
The awkwardness
Bursting the anxiety of
Fluids never exchanged,
The paper hearts under
A soaking presence
Of red horizons leaving
The flickering of the Moon
Under waves,
A decor of rejected poems,
I know now the pain
Is the same color as
An empty  kiss and the
Hope is deep inside,
Taken  from the marrow.

We used to soar
And the wind up under
The depressed wings
Like a shattered dream caused you to
Float away to who ever made them,
A mysterious beginning
To every end of unknown
Spectrum, ***** rainbows,
And I see that i don't,
Blind the angel behind shadows,
What's come together to
Fly is just another flutter
Into the lifted dust
Settling on life's breath
Beneath a woven heart stitched
With the emotionally
Unstable needle through
My skin,
If not for the winds beneath
Us swaying  too **** much,
It'd be hard to see the grounded
Reality that we were
Off course and it was already over,
The halo is the
Last kiss under the quarter moon.

in this
pocketful
        of limbo
          the distance rises
               in curls of smoke
        a prairie fire
siphoning into
crisp edge
           of forest
          Inside my
uncloaked ventricle
primeval forces
turn my blood into
dusted gold
as they pump
        sacred texts
into my oxygen
      They roll your quintessence
upon my fingers,
            playing inside
     my psyche's  
wild ache
a spread of orifice
in spellbound mantra,
       as I spit out
          the
            hairy thorns,
a holy purge of
   internal
        engravings
    
Somehow ---
like a miracle,
I grow ripe seedlings
from deep within
            my womb
as I trip into
a universe rising
I take wisps
of your grace
as it brushes
the jut of my
astral collarbone
You are always
         grounding me
                    like this,
               my tongue
              tripping
         over velvet
stance of warrior
        assuaged into silk
    
        Without you,
I might be
whisked off into
the periphery
of chaos
but instead
       I am simply
tied to
      the urgency
of the little novas
about to
        explode

While I wait
            I tend to
              the wildfires.
     to make sure they
                   are still burning
I keep my honey
wet and fresh
upon your
                   lips,
let my pores
drip moonpools
    into your glistening
wet of mouth
and only when
          it is time
I let the whole of
           me burst
into the
      fire -wrapped
tips of
   stars