some of the dryness will bleach from pithing
your noetic strands and the rest, a ****
prinked rind deluded.
i dip cupped hands into the lowlands, scraping
fractal mold flakes captioned, answers in light
cubic rift, that, i will toss adoration engines,
in the end, the goddess of substance will
not retrace, not the rift. mortaled caper,
inflection of the flats, grinded
reactions. grinding thoughts
scribbled to-dos spreading forth, immurdered.
tokenized spice cabinets, enter rift
refuge. the caper collapses on molar-novas,
solar lepidoptera folding in your hair.
the sweat-between-us hive. the separatist mind.
salt mines alarm us, a subject deepened
between two gestures. have you the stratum
germinal grains, embryonic clock tower -
mineral lies don timescales
tucked in our hereafter mattress.
i will deathlessly dry with a towel
unless i’m showering with it, a full commit
to the status kiss.
[after all that, you still love me,
in the bedlam trees the choral key,
the old oak door embroidery
are pieces of me scattered (spelled) naturally.]