A canorous music perforates my opaque,
It is gods, talking...
Rain's drops are their pillars of the temple.
Echo of gossip...
Quivering chromaticism smearing me,
With osculates and solidarity,
Eventually...
Kissing a cross 'round my knuckle,
I start...
I solicit solitude...
Away from this deluge of unknown.
This echo of bursting sparks, dreams...
Will I altogether, be accompanied
By my only one ally?
We anon, god(?) I hope(!), will rally loneliness,
Imbibing a cup of chocolate
And zest and dally.
This sweet's like gold.
But... One for all, all for one...
Ostracizing my faith...
Oh!... An ameliorated hallucination.
The cross fell.
Do not! I beseech! decimate
My incipient, redintegrating mate ---
I cannot delineate now any line of this smooth... lie!...
Gods still howling
But I am still walking
The echo melts through.
Oh... What love dove above!
Blinked delving and desperarion...
Scintillated once whilst falling apart on my face!
The rain of dead, the rain of shadows.
With a liquor of ink... and... tears
Melting my ego, my flesh
Sunk in my sole soul
I yield and fall
Letting a chrysalis breed into a labyrinthine verisimilitude
Of lies,
Lies,
Yes.... Of lies!
Lulled by loop and fetching,
I cannot resume, I kneel more and bow,
Tie my cross again 'round my knuckle
Till I dust to golden grain.
And hover
Fetching equanimity... No eyes will ever again bloom hope.
I'm sorry... I cannot any more equilibrize anything.
This is my alibi desuetude
'Cause I'm thirsty for luxury.
Stopped ended lines, squeezing and hugging ink.
I hope desynchronised is not my goodbye.
I hope this "emended" version of my poem will be as welcome as the first whilst I am back after a long time of viewing this website.
