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connor-reidPoems
Breaking waves, folding in river bends (meandering) with an effortless grace Cupids mouth, foaming to return - broken and filling up the landscape. Cracked horseshoes waltzing across a vibrating brain, all the worlds night quartz, cutting drunk into your Green city. Banishing a sense of self uprooting positivity, displacing our discontempt - boil out the water from the soup of human condition. Boredoms grace. We're rotting, lizards tongues wearing the past, skin deep Imbued. a morbid relocation of entrance authority, a fee Reflecting light off your face always leading back, back towards a tabletop nausea. Caked in powder, i make my way over - licking my finger and rubbing away at the cracks formed years ago wandering in and out of Escher's wet dream, hoping to settle mind and body numbed and lethargic, medicine doesn't help. An open patio door, grooming in the whisped brown dawn - 7.34am God's rags, crisp displacing particles against the mountain lip red light brewing in the observers mind. Cubes of water pushing through into tomorrows wake all unwrapping like 1,000 words diluted into one second. I'm tired appetite gone graven, knowledge of the inside of my mouth encyclopedic and (almost) boring. It's closed again at the crux of abandon, the skies youthful, built from wood, holding up the trees. Excess - child's play for Atlas. Rogue, electric Blue. Mollusc in hand living, lipless just outside the geopolitical borders heading back towards maturity. Nihil, projects objectivity, sycamore due, borders as happiness combed our soft necks. A situation is only what you make of it, we're all in on this living together in leaves - by roadsides making homes where we sleep. The sky is on fire exploding into fruition as hot chlorine licks against unwashed belly buttons and hair going blind and stripping back it breaks you.
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Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
Majestic 12
Breaking waves, folding in river bends (meandering) with an effortless grace Cupids mouth, foaming to return - broken and filling up the landscape. Cracked horseshoes waltzing across a vibrating brain, all the worlds night quartz, cutting drunk into your Green city. Banishing a sense of self uprooting positivity, displacing our discontempt - boil out the water from the soup of human condition. Boredoms grace. We're rotting, lizards tongues wearing the past, skin deep Imbued. a morbid relocation of entrance authority, a fee Reflecting light off your face always leading back, back towards a tabletop nausea. Caked in powder, i make my way over - licking my finger and rubbing away at the cracks formed years ago wandering in and out of Escher's wet dream, hoping to settle mind and body numbed and lethargic, medicine doesn't help. An open patio door, grooming in the whisped brown dawn - 7.34am God's rags, crisp displacing particles against the mountain lip red light brewing in the observers mind. Cubes of water pushing through into tomorrows wake all unwrapping like 1,000 words diluted into one second. I'm tired appetite gone graven, knowledge of the inside of my mouth encyclopedic and (almost) boring. It's closed again at the crux of abandon, the skies youthful, built from wood, holding up the trees. Excess - child's play for Atlas. Rogue, electric Blue. Mollusc in hand living, lipless just outside the geopolitical borders heading back towards maturity. Nihil, projects objectivity, sycamore due, borders as happiness combed our soft necks. A situation is only what you make of it, we're all in on this living together in leaves - by roadsides making homes where we sleep. The sky is on fire exploding into fruition as hot chlorine licks against unwashed belly buttons and hair going blind and stripping back it breaks you.
connor-reid
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connor-reid
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
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