Static still void slowly
Reveals through blurred
Lines and smeared paints

The figure of love or some-
Thing familiar enough. I sit
Suspended between two

Languages, indebted to
Different philosophies, and
At any given time I find

Teeth loosed from my mouth
As they are ripped out; sour
Taste of an omen ever

Present on my taste buds,
Ever scraping my knee
Caps as I fall to them

In some rapture, I bleed
My youth on dusk bathed
Blacktop of the school

Yard. I see towering womanly
Love, a monument to shake
Foundation, almost completely

Out of view, piercing overcast
Skies, yet not taking any
Clouds with it. I sit on ornate

Carpets of kebabs & half
Filled tea cups, stomach
Deep in some obscure

Fear of my desires. The dog
That loves me most of all
Is never allowed inside

The house. He sits valiantly
Outside, chained to a
Watermelon tree. Heavy

Heavy things all around me,
All things light and
Soft, even in sleep stasis

Feel ever as ever
Out of reach; beyond even
The scope of my dreams.