I’m selling your name to a star
that has never cast my shadow.
leaving your eyes where
I found them… staring at the rubble
of the sky.

.

you surely do not have ugly hats; sit and ponder the quavering void in your semi-casual Fedora
if it pleases You. but don’t be alarmed. Be a Cat.
i concede that you are wonderful. That’s got me thinking you have Saturns’ Rings for an Aura.
a fit of Believing. but don’t be naive. Be Opaque.
you walk like getting somewhere is a cage. you do this silently and you’re gorgeous for It.
the Journey is your Infinite Question. You have so many looms to inspire into weaving
but nothing but your heart to stain the Threads
of your flawless Haberdashery.

Fall is so beautiful! The way it sings with sleepy birds
and unkempt skies. the way it does nothing at all but brown-yellow leaves
and a Harvest Moon, plucking the Dark out of a perfect black.
there are so many stars now.
I’m so in love with all the loveliness! i cannot sing!
i can only be mindful of how absolute
a Joy can be.
and how wondrous an atom
of Time.

Sleep dreams of Me
and I can only be mindful
of how the air is clean.
full of opposite smoke
and all the marvels of Creation
swimming in a lack of Perfection.
Come ‘round from an opulent
Thought.
All Life, a Supreme Quiet.

Fall is so welcome. i cannot fathom
the Mirror of Spring
without holding an imponderable  
in the palm of my
Yes.

what is the future talking about? i can’t understand.
it’s like reading lips in a blindfold made of all
the wishes a genie would laugh at.
it’s like singing into a deaf noise
that only hears you when you
eat your feelings without Siracha
and call upon a thousand urges
to Undie.

what is the future talking about? I can’t tell.
I’m too busy marketing my ****** self to my **** Self.
I sleep with my eyes closed
but I open my petunias
with days upon days
of Allure.

Love is in the shape of a law that allows for pain and perpetual twitterpation.
In the torus of a whipsmart affinity. Love unfurls like a petulant fog
beneath a clear sky of Nightfall’s empathy.
hoarding stars in fathomless boys without girls-
all the while, Filling a Void.
you can’t complain when The Universe
holds your tongue.

And You haven’t Rehearsed.