Contact - Pews with no use, a forgotten passage treacled, serving the timbre of resonance
Fundamental mistake agreed upon - Taken in turns, compromise youth, stripes of black tape, holding in, holding down - With such emotion
A feeling, an instinct - Complex in nature, futile in structure - Sigil-like and abrupt - Bursting forth a cacophony of irreverence
Yet, buried vast leagues underneath, the reflex of upset digestion in a tank of split hairs
Full/Frugal
This is within the borders of communication - Feedback - Crossed between importance
Cornerstones moss covered, sinking to the bottom of refuse
Candy & gum flavoured coastal reefs - Hardening on the decay of brimstone and salt
My ego is capsuled, exerting pressure equally from all angles
A fishing hook, on a fishing rod - Cast into a culture of aplomb
Plum knives, bread, buried under volcanoes - Just far away enough, shielded by brass
Squashed inside my grandmother's tin - Old, rustic and wilting
Baking our ancestry into extinction - Corroding, and creating callous embassy
Just long enough, to settle our stomachs - I dance.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
Contact - Pews with no use, a forgotten passage treacled, serving the timbre of resonance
Fundamental mistake agreed upon - Taken in turns, compromise youth, stripes of black tape, holding in, holding down - With such emotion
A feeling, an instinct - Complex in nature, futile in structure - Sigil-like and abrupt - Bursting forth a cacophony of irreverence
Yet, buried vast leagues underneath, the reflex of upset digestion in a tank of split hairs
Full/Frugal
This is within the borders of communication - Feedback - Crossed between importance
Cornerstones moss covered, sinking to the bottom of refuse
Candy & gum flavoured coastal reefs - Hardening on the decay of brimstone and salt
My ego is capsuled, exerting pressure equally from all angles
A fishing hook, on a fishing rod - Cast into a culture of aplomb
Plum knives, bread, buried under volcanoes - Just far away enough, shielded by brass
Squashed inside my grandmother's tin - Old, rustic and wilting
Baking our ancestry into extinction - Corroding, and creating callous embassy
Just long enough, to settle our stomachs - I dance.
