Reaching for the gib opening
Of deep-dug dirt
I lay,
With sleeping sickness wrapped around my ears
And white oak stains my hands
Till dawn,
I run;
Away in search
Of waking minds to release
The cracked shells of hope
Falling into deep desolate moans
Flighty love
That bury its self on shells of **** skin
Please find the pain in my light that
Roam your heart
And scatter the city,
Blood red sky
Drip cries upon
Our land
Grab the scars below my feet
And blisters on my shins
Before they fall under the cemented graves
Of brick ****** mornings
Reaching for you
The bitter less shells cracks with our knuckles
The steel walls are closing in
How I miss the comfort of my home
A weary morning our eyes meet
Upon casted light
I thought the curves of my spin fit gently
Between the knots of your brass knuckles
Don't look at me like a beamed drivel on a drooling Sunday
Not a line of soaring gloom or penultimate light
Paint dripping from under garnets home
Reflection on tyrants open cascade
Beauty not a mortifying sound
But distant memory
So daintily
As a striving romance
Have *******
Naked on bare raft
Sends flakes of fossil romance  
Prickles some type of silence under window blocks
And my raft light is forgotten
Pleading like a merciful sin
Bloomed where you're born
Blue moon hovers over
Ocean dust
Circling around pitiful rings
To throw in the barbecued fire
Silently vile mercurous sun
My body can't forget your name
I remind myself while lust gets the better of us  
Leaving what you run from;
I ran into

While sitting with the gleaming dim of sun and hoping the smell of death that has always lingered on each fingertip, I switch the page of the ****** substance, my mind is thinking where you have been, or where I am going and I think I've learned to hate this distance of home, on a train filled with the nonsense of people and filled with the tyrant desire to keep moving, we sway together like the emotionless tooth ache I've remembered I had now that I'm comfortably laying between the act of home and the act of drunk men waiting to scream, I hope as this seedling roots to the top I don't accusingly run into this smell again or the madness of mumbles, I hate being apart of this religion of laugher if it is not my own. I realized how selfish I sound, wanting to bask in my own silence, feeling the neglecting laugher this is exactly where I do not belong.

Graceless horror
Of rising ocean
And waves of sorrow
Haunted with your misery
Is an abduction of my home
Passage of time
And growing life
It's an ancient river
To rise to
And I, like flowers
Blossomed in your arms

Our ambient bodies
Buried beneath the strings
Of kisses youve left beside my curves
You've squeezed the back of my throat
While the wetness of my mouth lingered on the sides of your ****
Taking my breath while you dig deeper inside me
Your rivers of wet absence
Swallow the agony between my legs
Teasing me of warm desire
The depth under our eyes
As the motion of lust
Leaves gasping salty
Grasping the sides of my hips
Thrusting me harder
The timid nectar of my skin
The pretense of our friction
With fingers wrapped in tawny curls
The molten silver
I want to drink you full

Somehow down a mist of streams this lake is warmer without her
Not a gleam escapes the pink
Mumble madness are absent glory from desert storms
Not a window of pages return closed doors
Hands believe in blue while vacancy agony dims daisy dust
She paints bill board bliss across deceiving lines
Carriage despair
Tiptoe mercy a long blue moons
We are nothing alike
How the city aches for honesty
I ached for reverie

I only smell the bakery down my street the sewers are clogged with our dead ends while spring makes a guest appearance, finding my way home to the spot I've name always "the end" the stars have always led me back here. To the smell of bliss and Italian hair nets. The nests above always crest a hold on me. The curving plate of land leading to the window-sized door I've memorized the cracks and bruises of each push, I know I've pushed too hard into the wind and a battle started that I tried to drown with envy and sink with grief. You never fit on my block, you looked too focused and confused and too illustrated under each paragraph and each line you couldn't align yourself between finger tips or look at poetry, looking at you made me get the concept of a sore thumb, I couldn't bare to watch you lie there longer, you've  always managed to touch me like an empty canvas, a loose picture frame and if there is one thing left to say to the rosy cheeks of you entering the castle I thought bided our humanity, beneath this ginger bread smell and silence it would be thanks, for stopping by.

You left me by the midnight storm
By the collection
Of burned hearts
Under woven caskets
Where banquet maps
Aligned the beauty
Within the lighting
So dim
Lying between the shadowed
Sun where walls under our lungs
Remind me of silence
I only remember the agony
The ignorance of boxed warmth
And the lust of forgiving
Like the never ending winter
And feathered snow
Shedding like the lint left beside
Fallen autumn
I sleep, quietly, soundly
Under a lit match
The tawny desire
The rivers have flooded
The walls have curved cracks
Of winded mud
Mortifying humor
I can't seem to look past
The shadowed curtains you've
Manage to imprison me under
I've learned to love
The silhouette mass
Singing along with the tunes
Of metaphors
That dance through the blood stream
You've over flowed
I remember calm
And fear of silence
I remember what I wish I could forget
Yet the scintillating muse
Has left me
Always gasping, salty
I kept hoping this was the last
Notebook, the last page
Before a new chapter unraveled
The endless horror
Of eyelids filled with
Respired tears
The skies are open
And waiting for the RSVP invitation
I've climbed to the top of the tree
We've kissed under
And fall
Just to feel your silence
Once again