There was a parasitic insect

That feigned amiable things

Oblivious to its beguiling exoskeleton

She never checked under its wings

Where the glistening wanes to a tenebrous coal

A stench that reeks of rancor and mold

Until the monoxide indifference

Is bitterly experienced

She’s unable to breathe in the truth

Suffocating on this deadly weapon

She sees with a new sense of clarity

That she was lured towards false prosperity

Unbeknownst

Naivety attended its own wake

And was sacrificed along with trust and faith

So we sing along to another somber song

And disperse the soil defiled

By the parasitic insect that plagues the thoughts within us

Unable to fathom exile

.
I wanted to know the sighs
Of mercy.  On the bed she lied,
Laid bare in the shocking light
That twitches, as she rolls
I hover and cage her in question,
With moist eyes, abandoned
By loves interrogations,
I stab at the untruths and confusions.
I wanted to hear the supplicant
Murmur of indolence and shame.
With windy caresses I break
Her arms, she ropes me red
In tangled hair and I struggle
To let go.  I wanted to taste
The twin defeats of victory
And indifference, when in the light
Of darkest night there are cries of yes
And no and false accusations,
There is consuming pain and excruciating
Pleasure and as we squirm
And seethe, she teases,
Goading me and then,
I loose it.

When *** is a fight
the ideal outcome is
without survivors.

Even Higgs boson,
Mythic, mystic, if real not—
As rare as true love.

Stars fell into day—
Burning in redden silence,
Leaves float on still lake.

Abjure the bones broken in,
The first lift frissoned by
The moving trees slain on the shift,
Rivers and risen flowers cut,

My statuary lurches betide
The nap of bent wing saluting.

My aviary is a fluttering bed,
The scattered head REMs my flight,
My feet in cloud extend for landings
Tings the belled bound legging.

My falconer bows with pride
In the stall bent wings stooping.

My clawed creature glides for only
The pitching sun or shining moon
And my flights execution, the hooded
Head, end trails my falconer.

My days, fowl to the lunar kite,
Assail the winds open wound.

One bird's final flight,
Wings beat by gentle stray sands,
Woke into a dream.

Bounders drawing lines,
Last days lowered like a boom—
  .  .  .  Chalk of rising moon.

Parting was a threat,
Love was a wielded blood word,
Dangerous passion.