Staunch, fat, biting gold.

I lay my name through, tooth.  

To ruler engraved crown for crown.

Have a friend shill a coin to the ferryman when I pass away.

Smelling poppies on latent days rubbed drably against misty eyed strangers the made come.

Visions of you, like breaking devaneio at dawn.

Scrolling ordinals under the digital skylight begging God’s credit by the water.

Our round faces pawning tailored passions now read merry of habits.

Now hung loose fit we became the plastic cultists.

It’s all so ******* passe.

If only blood rushed echoes to rest in, ear.

In life we vainly crashed fleets of words abroad of each other's connection.

In attempt to capture by proxy this lacunas.

Slouched about rooms now left empty of the inhabitants whose taste once raided inside them.

Bare it well.

You.

Devaneio.

You.

Casting shade for former particle existence.

Estranged of the salience there beneath the birch limbs uplifted whispers.

Star gazing.

A lame thief I let sleep in my eyes.

Like laundered thought, my fingers playing here a note in banners painted fade.

I wish I could paint it cracked in oil and gouaché.

Wispy slaps past almost ad victoriam.