I want to write
Without letters
I want to kiss you
Without lips
I want to choose
without thinking
I want you
Without me

"I bet your lips are soft."

Mm.

And there goes everything I've ever known.

I travel daily
To chase the Sun, it's radiance empowers me
For things that lose meaning.

I , insignificantly scurry along my labors
under the Sun's demanding gaze.
"Make haste," Said He,
" For I will not remain fixed; I must fly."

I labor, weary of his glare.
And yet, where work is through,
I journey west, in vain of his flight,
hoping for his purpose in warmth.
Instead, I am faced with the harsh reality:
The Moon is cold and distant, and will not suffer herself to give warmth or purpose.

And so, I repose.
Waiting for the race to begin anew,  
To renew my spirit within the purposes of the Sun.

burn the light of fire
and wax the ears of injustice.

chide the moon
and bid ado to the reckless sun.

count the blessings of misfortunes
and wave verbs in the air--
breathing the hopeful breaths of married sandals

Label the pains of a billion rain drops and fawn the feathers
of a nightingale over the glory of failed
triumphs known as yesterday.

break the hands of a wristwatch and make a ******* of time--
for through the God in Satan was how Earth was won.

Poison spoon fed the nodding King and ended ancestors.

Holy cows bought government *****
and ate suicides grown by ***** Kubla Khan gospels.

Shantih, Leviticus, and other proper thoughts
kissed arms of air and made islands from memories of breakfast.

Eternity perished in the illusion of swallowed tongues
in the belly of an infant—
and yesterday,

Only one bullet of hallelujah stood swimming.