Soft spots mark up
the body and spark

plugged up: an implosion

syrup sweet weeps sticky substances
like love, chuunibyou, and other delusions

dreamed: in language strange
spoked, soaked in sulphur

a beautiful man without mercy hath thee in thrall

i. no absolute rest
"yes, time
never did stop
for anyone."

but I add...

ii. no absolute motion*
"even time itself
is an
illusion."

because
yours and mine
...dissent.

iii. backwards
maybe yesterday,
we could still
work things out.

--softer,
than lightly (3.0 x 10^8 m/s)

iv. implausibility
our foreheads wear
the cracks of our heart.

you lost your zeal,
I lost my saviour,
we lost each other,

but left
with osmium-clad
backpacks,
and collapsed
patellas.

E = mc^2.

v. our end

fact:
tomorrow
is inevitable.

fact:
screeching alarms
and lopsided bed-hair,
and chugging caramel lattes,
with precisely two tablespoons
of raw sugar--

fact:
forget among the clamour,
the shadow of your figure--

fact:*
you are an
unearthed blackhole,
under the facade
of a supernova.

(your mass = 2.5(+) x greater than the sun)

"You are likely to
succeed if you try!"

Perhaps that's why
I find a part of the
self in verbal form

At the subatomic level of
this and that there is a Platonic
good vibrating like mad, like a
mountain flower

Saying "Yes, I said yes,"
will you yes to its yes?

Is the line under
the signifier: a thing
not self-originating:

And the I that takes
a pleasure in watching
it identifies with the self
watching it happily identify

This representation of the
self in verbal and then
ideal form to be faster,

Faster, faster, because
Mommy is near and I have
wings and can ******
you with my bare hands

It's an understanding
in an unconventional way:
To say that the utterance
gives way to strength

She's changed and
much more sensitive
than she used to be like:

She'll cry if something
is sad enough to cry
about and say "how sad!"

To herself, she says
softness can be a reverse
blade sword that cannot ****

It says "I will not ****," with
a murderous strike: a representation
of a murderous stroke, twice

Removed from a first killing
swing a springtime of ******
youth and creative expression

Exists in the ego only and
the line between signs a
flash of the you in the universe

How natural and harsh, such
lovely waste: an amazing
mazing system of constructing

There is a feeling I love.
A feeling I can't deny is my favorite.
Some may call it dangerous,
some,
may call it childish.
By I,
can't help
how much
I love it.

"Romance is like an extra in life. I don't mind having it, but I'm not in the mood to chase it."