he's in love with movements of air;
her distances traveled between it

we were so visibly shaken
after the rest died out &
your bouquet dried out

we were left with our sagging, old brains
& no one's interested, beyond our machines
in our old constructs, or perhaps, new mishaps

he was unsure of what he should be seeking, and
it appeared the pipes in the basement were leaking
yoke propped onto his cracked shoulders, scrutinized
by the heavy eyes of caliginous violet smoulders


she's in love with unfair moments
the blurring of every before and after
barring the moon through creaky rafters
with ****** gloom and insincere laughter
at the sky, bearing its last each and all
tapping on a shivering wall


with a head to traumatize,
to object to the onslaught-
is to reject the tireless ****
a timeless, photogenic glut
and a refutation, erased


a collection of
twelve billion cells
with a ****** captain

giving in to the never-ending
aching, delving, pervading, as

the lecherous lecturer
and a solemn giantess
left on the barren foothill
where it all transgressed