A joke was told,
With a sleight of hand —
Magic show wizardry

Chests flare like a puff of smoke
Exhaled from lungs that broke
With no discernible direction
And rainbow flags pour out of sleeves
As the maestro gives no certain directive.

Who do fools fool
When is one fool following the fool?

A wilted rose
Crumbled inside a sweaty velvet hat
Where a dead rabbit lies dormant

"Abba Cadaver!"

Silly little cottontail
Didn’t you read the advert?
Tricks are for kids!

This magician makes spirits disappear
Like a seance with his liver,
Voices speaking loudly
The ethanol cleanses sorrow from the proud
When he goes to bow to a one-man crowd.

Hold court with a disappearing act
One can see the card drop below the white glove
But ignorance is bliss, like cotton candy after a meal missed
And ******, I came to see a magic show!

A dove appears in the form of a crow
Painted white and dead as winter snow
Stiff upon the ground, he swears it’s flying.

Just another deluded drunk,
Down the pail, and dying.

Though the world may rage,
like gilded nightingales caught in a cage,
our souls can still sing softly.

The earth may crack with no footfall to faucet,
the fault doesn't always fall with the wind,
sometimes, the storm begins within.

This is why the search begins,
beneath the surface, where the silence knows our name,
where the echoes go to live.

My cells in sweet contortion,  
as your passion infects me with  
magic poison.  
I wish I was boneless,  
so I could twist and fly your body  
all night long.  
I see the shadows of me I hide,  
in the blazing fire of your eyes.  
You plunged into me  
and seized my secrets from  
the tenor of my moans.  
In my deepest spaces,  
my core knows you are a lustful danger.  
My heart betrays my soul,  
offering you endless wild abandon.  
In between the grip
of my quivering canyon.

The worst part was thinking I saw you,
A you with depth,
A depth that matched mine,
But you just turned out to be
like everyone else.

You left me — but your voice lingers still,
a quiet echo threading the hollow of my chest.
Each word, a ghost — soft as smoke,
yet heavy as stones I cannot lay down.

Tell me — does absence end a presence,
or do the shadows of love remain,
like paintings in an empty gallery,
etched into the silence of who we were?

In every corner of my mind,
your words move like uninvited guests,
rearranging memories,
leaving traces where you once filled every space.

If love is gone —
why does my heart still tune itself
to the phantom murmurs of your voice,
waiting, endlessly,
for a silence that heals?

losing my mind cause giving you head’s
the only time you think I’ve got depth

in every whisper in every kiss
I wonder if I truly exist

People are enamored at the calm, tranquility of the sea as they said, as it depicts only how gentle it is, cascading through shores. We have hated its chaotic depths and crashing waves as the dark skies looms above, those waves were the beat of my heart in a gold locket— it must love the catastrophe to be kind.