1
O black golden cleanser
O ebony shrine ballast
Pry open mine eyes,
sharpen my senses like cutlery
& envelop me—
Is the day so young
another cup please, just to
Get me going
2
Heat
Not quite that of a fire
"but trust me, don't touch it"
Let the smoke stiffen
& soften become the
summation of particles & at once
lose all sense of being
I'll have a smoke now—
maybe I'll kick it a little later
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 1:06 AM UTC
1
O black golden cleanser
O ebony shrine ballast
Pry open mine eyes,
sharpen my senses like cutlery
& envelop me—
Is the day so young
another cup please, just to
Get me going
2
Heat
Not quite that of a fire
"but trust me, don't touch it"
Let the smoke stiffen
& soften become the
summation of particles & at once
lose all sense of being
I'll have a smoke now—
maybe I'll kick it a little later
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