Your profound indifference speaks to me,
Loud enough to be heard over a hot cup of coffee.

What you bring to me is like honey
I feel my love in the beauty of the day
When we have the afterthoughts of morning
Still burning in our bellies
We dare to dream a million openings
But when did we learn to speak in silence
And make passion fruit tear drops
Spring from our souls
We are shouldering too much responsibility
Behind the wondrous face of every flower
There are a million women and children crying
If we depart on time but arrive early
There are too many disappointments to unwind
And we must each defy these frozen dramas
When shadows melt in their tracks against the Sun
We are abandoned governments
Taken from one place to another
Like the Spring that wanders naked
Like lines of paint on a empty canvas
I have a voice formed in the coolest waters
A shallow pool of tears
Can never drown these disappointments
And though it cannot be purchased
Love still remains the most virtuous of poisons

Retrospect.
The dangerous game,
I play for pinks,
With sanity in the stakes.

Royal Flush,
My house is full of jokers.

Brokered a deal with the thoughts who spoke whisper'd cutthroat scenes.

Intraspect:
Everyone is perfect.
Except for me.

Are we just lonely trumpet flowers dangling
Sang an owl, on the hour, drawn from the stream
When all our hearts made the same offerings
We are pouring into each other's vessels
Muscles with memory select the kinetic chains
That bind our names to our destinies
Its the same as yesterday’s dismembering
Its a blessing to embody the fire
As if this desire is higher than anything
That you’ve ever seen apart from dreaming
So we listen closely for the logos to speak softly
After all it seems it's not so easy to imagine
The fathomless depths of our being
Until right before we need to step off the edge
And rest fully suspended in the breathless
We are the everyday magic of life
Actualizing itself while tired feathers fall asleep
Out of touch but still somehow within our reach

We couldn't bear to know
The outcome of this longing
For it's much too time consuming
Opening and closing
And lifting off these covers
And not condemning ourselves
For we are far from independent
And it's evident in the way we move
And if at the very least we are observant
Then we must still easily lose track
Of whatever it is we are doing

I wish you could see this,
That silence is a perfect circle.

We adore the hour
Of enduring madness
We are crude and cruel
Like tigers in the morning
We are food for the gods
Who stayed too long
And strayed too far
From their solitary pantheons
We are the shadows of Psyche
Tirelessly shorn from our bodies
We are retired armies
These conglomerates of hatred
Fed up with feminine values
We are salivating angst
We are manic depressive virgins
Your coercion is comical
This is evil incarnate
Sardonic solitude shrouds You
In it's vision-less vicissitudes
We are used to being used
And fed ignorance like food
We are bored and longing
For some muscles to flex
So we could attest to our problems
I contest your victory
And seek meaning in expression
Anger is reflexive yet still we beg to differ
Our questions are rejected
By an authority we entrusted
To naively negate our egos
We collect puzzles and never solve them
We form alliances with psychedelic buffalo
And smile while meditating butterflies chart
Their ancient transmigration patterns
We are pinnacles of virtue in vitriolic prisons