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t Sep 2020
O blue comfort-
blanket sweet desires
closet aging aches
gift
the sugar silence

hot salt on
sweet cheek
supress & savour
rotten teeth

and keep a secret
for a day

a bellyache
a funeral wake
a cold hand
and
mango man

keep your hurts
keep them all

and release relief
when sun sings
dawn
t Aug 2020
a rose by the hour
floral shower
florid stain

the waxy lip
(incarnadine)
blooms for the sweet
and fragant touch

of
that young lily

iced and white
with blushed insides
and forbidden
fruit.

there is a timeless tale
within those pearls
within that smile

of youth

pulchritude

purity.

there is a quintessential
romance
beneath that lust
(that noisome desire)

heart beating and breaking
and pulsating and

suffocating

the light from the room
and the gold from the sun
and the bud
from her mother.

dulcet petal
browned
and grotesque -
posioned by posion
and romantic unrest
yet


a rose by the hour

floral shower

florid

stain.
t Sep 2019
heart hurt
and frozen melody
and hot tears
and spinning salt
on a metallic swing.

looking for idols
in skies
and mountain tops,
searching for motions
to memorise
pretend to
reflect
implode.

scenic nothing
picturesque empty
meaning
less than
previous thought.

distant dreams
i’ll say it again,
revisit
fresh graves
and supposed
new beginnings.

discover what
you know
is what you knew
change isn’t a magnet
some
own it all

some reach
just out of sight
always
change your mind

not your fault
fruitless.

just want that feeling
complete.
t Sep 2019
perhaps
the silence
of souls
(and the lonely vagabond)
causes the crowd
inside
to crush
compress
idle.

or...
the wait
for semantic value
for purpose and thrill,
motion and love

and love and love.

and i never could
speak those three words,
for fear
(or solidity or earthquakes or
sadness)
kept me steady.

but i still see the perfect moments
in grayscale
in movie screen filter.

with his back towards me
tracing softly
with my finger tip

three words

so easy.

and the worst of it all
(the tight in my chest
and wince in the brain)

is that i knew
i just knew
that if i said it...

he would say it back.
t Jun 2019
I change for you
Like the rose bud blooms.
Like the sea sways and sings
To the sweet sweet moon.

And the light of the sky,
the burning liquid sphere
the life
the warmth
cant compare to
the itch in my spine.

The freeze in my fingertips
The rhythm,
The dance of my core.
When you linger relentless

And natures hymn (relentless)
Paints the soft and sugar motion
Of wood nymphs and faeries
Mystic yet familiar.

You are the fantasy,
The myth
The blind blind faith.

You are the sun,
And the stars
And all of the above.
t May 2019
on a moonlight tryst
       i gave you my all,
       branches bending and bowing
       to Gaea.
       and her lover of the north-wind.
  
oh, autumn,
make me bare,
make me starve
          warm me, delight me.
love me thrice in the tenebrous
corners of the fairyland and bee hive.
                  
    the ichor rains down on us
  and gifts us wine for our roots
and un sospiro for our souls.

let’s dance all night,
         with a zephyr through our leaves,
         the inferno overlooked.

i will love you in winter,
with your polar spines and
bared back blues.

i will love you in spring,
in the whispers of Renaissance.
where youth awakens
in the sweet song of Helios’ new born.

and i will love you all the rest,
     as God wrote you just for me,
     a sonnet of youth and pulchritude
     a sonnet for the millennium,
     i will treasure for
     infinity.
t May 2019
your light is different,
than the blush
of tangerine summer
and crystal lakes
and Neptune dreams.

glowing, gliding
liquid metal
boyhood and yellowed
nostalgia

built from the bones
of shattered youth
and you
and you
and i,

and i have always known you,
in the bluest of blues
and treacle nights.

i have always felt you,
above and below.

in the empyrean
amongst the wood nymphs
(the green ghost lingering)
within the fairyland,
the sweet and poison reverie.

you are the one truth,
the warmest flame-
the crescent moon-

you are the only...

until i forget myself again.

— The End —