here’s my smile
you always said you liked it
not sure I own it anymore
take it
not sure I want it anymore
and
you always said you liked it.

Is it when two souls come together to unite or a drug that inhibits the mind, intensifying the senses of your heart combined.

An instinct that we crave to feel deeply emotionally attached.
Like oxygen we need to breathe, the removal of it deepens the need.

They say love is blind you can not see.
Is this the one who's captured me.

Minds in a daze lost in a maze.
Jolting you out of control, engulfing your body and soul.

Taking your hand alluring one in with that magical flute to captivate every inch of you.

You're lost in a trance enjoying the dance longing for it to last.
Increasing the desire not to drown out the fire.

Illusions of what we are led to believe.

Chemistry hits and that attraction exists, fireworks explode releasing pheromones, heightening the primal instincts inability to control the burning impulse.

Why is love inclusive and has many faces?

It's a basic human need; it's in our nature to proceed.

words that hang like shutters
from broken hinges.

words that hover like nurses
after surgery.

words that splatter like
thin remorse.

I heave with sickness
when they arrive.

I spring with ebullience
when they leave the ** dunk
parts of my mind.

these words
these ******* words
that show up in Pontiacs,
in Plymouths, in Pintos

these nonsensical,
satirical,
antiquated words.

they charge at you
like a dead bovine
swinging from a meat hook.

they crawl towards you
like a silverfish
out of the sink drain.

they creep up on you
like an old ***
rattling a change cup.

why? I ask myself.

why does this happen?

I don’t want this kind of ailment;
give me
bee stings
or bedsores
or steam burns
but not these words,

these words that linger like shingles
across the ribcage of burning torment.

I pray without ceasing
towards a signified God.

I pray for simple sacrifice;

I want suicide rather than poetry.
I want a cow without milk.
I want a statue without structure.
I want a woman without grace.

I can feel the floodgates opening soon
and I think I’m going to puke my guts
out all over this page again.

added bits and embellishments which caused remark
while the space between lines was so immense my head came heavy with drowsy
fell off
&
i did not return

They know
      because
     they learn
     to let go

Opportunity after opportunity
some could say leads to discontinuity
or spontaneity?
Can it lead to deity?
Frailty surely will come,
But we can spark that with
originality?!
Frivolity can be a gateway,
To birthing new possibility.
Imagine the ingenuity!