And here. 
Among wights. 
Missing all tickets unsold. 
Calling all who lived and felt. 

It is colder. 
And the wounds are raising. 
And again with revenue as to portray. 
"It is gone." She says. 
And I dream. 

Of that razor to steal my heart. 
And who steals my blood daily. 

Though not as to compost. 
Poisoning flowers. 
Oxidizing. 
And fermenting her soil. 

Soon again. 
I will drink. 
My ears warm. 
The morn brings leashed air. 
A chuckle at present. 

Of the last. 
Of past words misunderstood. 

Once of four. 
And once of five. 
And yeah, we speak in high tones. 
In vague terms. 

Of times arrived. 
Departing flights forgotten. 

Many moments undersold. 

Still I taste. 
A forced kiss. 

Too loved to unleash. 
And so I wonder who said, "Who?"

Oh bother. 

Speech of idiots. 
Words ******. 

I deny all salves. 
All soothing. 
All encompassing. 
Sweet chestnut colored love. 

Curves to hold and suffer subsurface. 
Sans scars. 

Food tomorrow. 
After today, food tomorrow. 

I recall her taste. 

As recalled, I remember. 

The violence. 
And pride.
After the meal. 
The tears and the urination. 

After theft. 

I swam. 
With those who denied. 

And those who gave. 
Who took?

She sat. 
And I swam. 

And they spoke. 
The water. 

I emerge on new skin. 

Skin of those before. 
Of dreams wondered. 
Dreams failed. 

I pursued and entered. 

A feast. 

A drink. 

Soft pelts.

A bed and works of excuse. 

Drowned in water. 

Drowned in love. 

My sweet ancient temple. 
The skies of false truth. 

And the ******* of an angel. 

The miss of one married. 
Scarred. 

Loud speeches. 

Parades across the globe. 

And hopes of love. 

Goodnight sweet muse.