your body is orange plastic,
the shade of wilted jack-o-lanterns,
l'ame is a disposable razor,
and your hair is my hair, severed,
i cannot place the bishop
on the opposing diagonal any more
than place you in or out of an awful dream:
each time you touch me, callous caress,
is a slit to pruned fingers,
the nightmare in water
sluicing through soggy skin
to balloon in my palms
clown's animals,
wrapped in drowning matter,
and burst.
i sometimes wish upon whatever **** rock'll listen
that my voice could stay the swells,
but most days i swell myself,
and stay to sing you storms,
precipitation is my forte
but you could always smell
the rain on its way.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
your body is orange plastic,
the shade of wilted jack-o-lanterns,
l'ame is a disposable razor,
and your hair is my hair, severed,
i cannot place the bishop
on the opposing diagonal any more
than place you in or out of an awful dream:
each time you touch me, callous caress,
is a slit to pruned fingers,
the nightmare in water
sluicing through soggy skin
to balloon in my palms
clown's animals,
wrapped in drowning matter,
and burst.
i sometimes wish upon whatever **** rock'll listen
that my voice could stay the swells,
but most days i swell myself,
and stay to sing you storms,
precipitation is my forte
but you could always smell
the rain on its way.
thank you sadness, for your cleansing nature. thank you rain, for rinsing with sadness. all things are temporary and abundance abounds.
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