Retrain the knife.
The mind it sweeps,
The velveteen,
With focals deep.

So sweet, the lay,
The houred beats.
So cut the day,
Without retreats.

Now chase your bliss,
With lust for life.
With hit and miss:
Retrain the knife.

I see demons hiding.
I wink at their shadows.
******* themselves, halfway to the curb.

My censor is muted.
My eyes now so lidless.
My voice, oh so set to disturb.

You ring out your outrage-
Crowned Queen of the Vapid.
I mirror the things that you chose.

The Soma, the money,
You burned through such tinder.
I break sidewalk with spoon for your dose.

Lay the Sun, love.
Roundabouts.
By Self, you mire the time.

In low repose,
And tickle tones,
You disregard my rhymes.

In mystic sweeps,
And Jungian leaps,
You distance my sight for love.

But ever patient,
I'll bear my heart.
As butterfly eats the dove.

what dreams may come
on nickel thumbs
i take my chances here

to be or not
such fickle crumbs
i lay my bodkin bare

Love poems rot,
The sensical knots.
I tie, overflowing, the dread.

The Pickwitkin Heavy,
The Verveberry Wedding.
Such shanks, still stuck in my head.

My memories loosen,
The Stopshift Tallcluesen,
Cut to myself dreaming in red.

Full throttle forward,
I'll sail ever toward,
My untying your knots from my bed.

I love blue so simply,
I love blue the most.
I love the way blue,
Just sits on the coast.

I love her expression.
I love her routine.
I love all her cobalts,
And music, and themes.

I love how she guides me,
In filling the sky.
I'll drown in her heavens.
In blues, shall I die.

I see patterns heavy,
I see patterns light.
I see the circumference
Of warm, summer nights.

Of dialogues listened.
And shows, all but seen.
I see such collections,
Of coincidenced things.

I feel all the passings.
The futures of taste.
We'll dance in full patterns.
My hands on your waist.

We circle the knowing
And outskirt the norm.
We cling to an Earthwhile,
In gravity warms.