Pragmatic solutions to single minded topics
Winded trepidation too close to home
Storm forcast high shadows on winded plains
Fly high in white silk dripped moss

Stay below the cost line
Drip wet with anticipation

Home bodied depression text book models
Lovely

Silky smiled girls
With cups tipped off of saturdays doubts
Validating infidelity for a firm grasp
Graffiti sideways winks
Your only as remarkable as your last debute
Born again to a word offering baptisms in svedka
Your vices tattood on a list of hymns
Find solice in no mans company
Bring faith on your knees to a boy who can't speak his name
Your body is a temple with access through insecurity
Bless me father it has been two drinks since my last confession
Silky smiled girls
Make no home for validation in weekend crimes

It starts off like a rock flying towards you
No algorithm to predict the speed, to predict the flight
No calculations to be made as you stand dumbfounded
You recognize the impending impact
Brace your muscles
Only hoping it doesn't sting too terribly
That the bruises ware off cleanly

With pens and ink
You scratch a surface with aching fright
torn papers show no signs of the words promised to be revealed in good time

You see ballpoint blood in your veins
Teasing seductive stares, broken by papered fragile skin
Grabbing for a pen you cry out as it bites back in the palm of your hand

Muscles tense
Awaiting impact

We've invented a million ways to tell a story

Adjectives and synonyms to value our thoughts

Little saucer eyed dolls use happy sad pretty ugly
Our sculls thicken around swollen brain links
We develop lingo and secret codes to dance around the truth
Inventions of complication
Syndication on an over developed dialect
Our words grow longer
As our recolection of the very idea we hoped to convey becomes skewed
Muddled in adjectives
Convoluted in rhymes
Twisted in talk
We forget our own simple thoughts

Our roots are buried underneath a blanket shadow

Thesaurus nation

Its a troubled impossible to try not to be in love
Its comes in cups and kisses
Bites and dishes
Love that swims through your ears, under your skin
Love that dances on your toes, pausing on the crook of your neck
Love that wonders about you when it goes to bed at night
It doesn't have to be a crooked smile in a book shop
Or the soft glances of the girl in your math class
Its the fire wood stacked with snow playfully draped
Old sneakers with laces brilliantly dulled
Bitter sweet chocolate on a curled tongue
It slips around you
It has no name, or age or sexuality
No background story
Nothing other than the moment you've invented right then and there
Its the love around you in your wool socks and your broken spine book
Love that eases your mind
Love that turns the tides of your thighs
It has no trouble with commitment
It has no accusations rooted in insecurity
Its the love in the way your sweater pulls around you
The way the sun kisses your cheeks
The way the wind burns your ears in the most pleasently burning way
The way your breath moves from your lips in winter frost

A love story for the ages

Petri dish children run with punctured neon green veins
Raised in focus groups with the touch of a hungry CEO
Who will sell your youth for another car to drive
Built from the dust of a baby boomer cabbage patch
Poked and prodded by the media of a society flamed with consumerism
Where your loosely draped skeleton frame has no more weight than the quarters you tuck in your pockets at weigh ins
Sunken eyes and sideways grins
Little girls are growing up to kiss the bad boys
Tequila soaked, beautiful kisses
Where your idol is a crack ***** beauty queen
Where your every fatal flaw has a rememdy and a price tag
A generation sick with drinks
Plagued by impulse and energy pulsing in tides
With ****** laughs and magnetic orbits
What ever happened to the petri dish children
Built for beauty and style, but left broken and stunning

Long after your kisses left my collar bone
I could feel the pressure of your weight on my frame
The fingers on my thigh
Holding the scriptures of my femaninity
Reading my words with careless fumbling touch
Your breath caught in between the lips that search my own
Fingers on my waist
No time to bring the gods apon us now
Mortals on a seperate plane
Heavy breathing
Ask your nondenominational god for no baby conceiving