The Silver Glaze of Speed
or Memory Sped

While passing along a shiny strip made by the street glamour of cars, moving to the rhythms of wishes fashioning a most coveted secret.
I am content with an inner radiance showing her off in my thoughts. Down here the lights are an old girlfriend that remembered I like the flirting backbone of highways…

© Matthew Goff

Sara walks by,
And passes a group of mothers discussing the importance of their children going to college. She smiles in radiant disagreement!
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A heated swell of perfume
Dripping from his lover’s cheek
Welcomes many more feelings to surrender
Than the windshield reveals now

Driving upon waterfall roads
Couples are seen as fashionable animals
While the starlet sisters giggle
Behind trees where winds sneak around
Carefully.

While the passengers slide upon each other’s laps, a ruffling of clothes is heard in a car nearby. The naivete of subtle experience may someday welcome someone to slip along the sweaty steps of pleasure-stained pools: The ****** Congregation, where the logistics of the court presume “Not Guilty” indefinitely. For temptation is more than desire in Vain, but human curiosity. We can only predict our immediate future and what certain components are to be gained up until a certain point. But new found treasures lie awaiting our innocent stumble, many instances where a courtship often leads to a garden of rose-colored garter belts. Which serve in replacement for telephone wire strung above homes whose tenants excitedly plan for the next affair.

© Matthew Goff

Dream unions celebrate
Fantastic communion for a
Strange orbital beauty
Which punctures the stitch
Of familiar reality and fortifies
Faith in the unknown

© Matthew Goff

I walk by, and never hear the word “***” uttered.
I walk by, and am surprised when people are polite.
I walk by, and people are moving too fast.
I walk by, and see people frowning in the rain.
I walk by, and see a crown of realization.
I walk by, and see a ritual of snow.

© Matthew Goff

French bath! Twenty two year old mind cologne ****! My friend speaks of concubines in yellow autumn slavery like my soul wants to copulate against female hosiery. A woman had her period, what’s it doing in my pocket? Warm October moons circulate preliminary madness with a catwalk kind of patience. Terrestrial sisterhood and their cemetery leaf appendages stroke our hearts with a sweep like bone-silk companions speak dark history.

© Matthew Goff

Paul and Sara ride
Burgundy lipstick her own
A flash radio
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