I don't believe you,
when you say,
those three words,
the three magic sylables,
each sylable with its own emotion,
forming a sentence of commotion.

A powerful sentence,
yet you say it careless.
The words glide out of your mouth,
over your dry lips,
as they dance in the air,
without a care,
they end up in my ear,
as they find comfort here.

One natural response,
and my heart is racing,
Not knowing the consequences,
it will be facing.

My brain holds back,
trying to keep my heart on track,
trying to restrain,
but still reminding it of the pain,

The fake smile changed in a frown,
as soon as I looked down.

My mascara blends out,
as my tears take a route.
The scars that are left behind,
leave an impression on my mind
and an engraving in my heart,

People stared at me,
wondering who I could be,
avoiding my biggest fears,
and covering up my tears,
make-up was a mask,
and it was my new task,
I changed my role,
to protect my soul.
-a.s

We are the virtues of natures
                           measurements.
No matter the strength that portray ,
                            we are each but wind.

Captured in a singular episodes
that collects

                                within a series of




cyclone syllables.


              And each is more vocal.
                 causing more destruction with


meanings that was expelled before.



Weep on the condensation that falls,
                 for the breath that collects after
                 will carry you further
      

Than any that fell in subjugation
                               before any verse...

where all wind in an eclipse of motions,
                      also surpassing every falling..

We can agree, we never have too many ands,
as in go look,
said go and look, useless and,
what is the goer to do, but look
- wait is the goer a robot?
ai declares that a faulty concept.
Let it go and agree. Ands are significant
and some of
those ands are idle,
save for some sublimnal musical reason,
-
a tune in time, accenting sylables - said with a sax,
from the showers at Venice Beach,
hospital green tile, analog auto answering prayer
empty- emptiness bound, true to beautiful
-
see there, no and needed, ifs and buts agree
threading through that needle eye,
focal plain… sharp crack, djewhear?
that man was rich,
but he died with a bang,
neighbors heard during the Redskins game that Sunday.