Unskilled romancer of moods...
bruised like a plumb from
false starts--fumbling, falling
into graces...whose?
Some bright-bulbed
peanut gallery staring at you
from the rears of their minds.
Watching you cartoonishly swept
off your feet by cosmic record skips.
The cavities of your features filling
with shadows, as if touched up for
your variations on danse macabre.
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 2:10 PM UTC
Unskilled romancer of moods...
bruised like a plumb from
false starts--fumbling, falling
into graces...whose?
Some bright-bulbed
peanut gallery staring at you
from the rears of their minds.
Watching you cartoonishly swept
off your feet by cosmic record skips.
The cavities of your features filling
with shadows, as if touched up for
your variations on danse macabre.
