Must my purest mimes be garbled message? You not know of endurance when, I am forced to watch your pretty face turn Pomegranate mien, cowering touch Permit yourself, plant me in exile nevertheless art of stolen converse Not my pleasure, no worry
whisper yourself in me Shout to yourself with me. I ask that you wipe your boots at the door smear crisp autumnal leaves on our mat and retire your worn sole, dinner is on the table I wander cautious you know, For I don’t want to tread upon your bare feet
Silent, serene hilltop hear me, have me. Here lies a heady custodian preferable to some See, This cross is chatoyant This cross weighs comfort This cross allows my palms to return kinder absent of splinters This cross is not a pyre. Cavernous not Shallow aye At least drowning is less likely
He peddles wool at the market leaves his sheep naked Trades it for twine of hemp. Sit and watch, it’ll find his neck Hooves waver hesitant he’s done it to himself Maybe, wool will warm his neck again and soak away the blood Copper weighs in his hands, weigh the priorities
There is magnified prisms that search for you know You, with loose carried plaits down to the crook of your neck. crook of the clavicle. Concave platter Hankering palms, place a handkerchief for me. low pressure; gravitational pull connected comprehension Cents lie in no cup My arms are wide open just like an invitation feels.
Gone of his watchtower find him and his strewn about samey fields Shoes left by the door Tie him to a chair, flailing sinew but go, go gift him devout tampers Industrial spotlight, peak through me. I’ll spill reserves of your spite ardent tithe