What happens to poetry
When it only exists
While it’s drunk?

You don’t decide who
Will make your heart race.
The corners of your lips just
Upturn so suddenly
That you only notice your smile
When you step forward and feel
The cement  pieces
Of a shattered frown
On the ground beneath your feet.

in the rain-
darkness,     the sunset
being sheathed i sit and
think of you

the holy
city which is your face
your little cheeks the streets
of smiles

your eyes half-
thrush
half-angel and your drowsy
lips where float flowers of kiss

and
there is the sweet shy pirouette
your hair
and then

your dancesong
soul.     rarely-beloved
a single star is
uttered,and i

think
       of you

I'm planning on breaking the bank so I can finally take my
overpriced alliteration vacation.

I sold all of my favorite clothes to make ends meet,
So, I plan on wearing costumes all day to fake like I know what I'm doing.