the corner of my fetal
mind paste
what about the skin of demons
the shadow that turns away
a slow placid individual
hollow from everywhere the caution of snow-wheels
cling to manifest
the picture burning inside an apartment for rent
outside walls carried memory of days
eyes and bones demand face
what if nobody’s here
the idea  
myself as sunshine with so much to offer easier
what is the difference
the sentence that defines
unbelief the chain
breaks I wish
dilate the never-belief
wondering effect paste my ***** on your voice
an animal feel i cannot deal with your sense
an unborn skull
the wallowing feet under cypress
skies of fleece and miniature dogmas
slices of fragments red purple green crows sound
the deep drum beat i accept
where i fall
a flashing voice collapsing towards the inside
throwing punishment the idea that i am foliage
corresponding thought process that machines never
agree
pale doledrum insomnia my hands
the lines of another car
the breath of being manipulated
killing instant
the shoehorn a new salt visiting magnolia
a knee high minute falling upside
my carpe diem **** fist theory
and all day i plead for the corrosion to move within you
the system eating itself into oblivion
i announce it when ears are in rooted to the floor  
i had a dream of a jesus picture on a fanbelt  
curved ***** **** on the outside  
apocalypse on my lips
fumes down on the floor
a few hours’ days
gone
i am stripped
speechless walking home
for me
can this be your silence pregnant with strange
looseness in its belly
stars fragile your arms
pins forced into throat calming
touch faking the ***** sounds of avocado
thursday lust
driven into soiled ground
crumbling face in another room they lay your hands on
me
a fragrance of wings missing
an unexplained
dense and unchanged
kind of melting from you
i give in
the shoulder manufactures what is real to the sound
life is liveable
nothing accepted when offered
the thought process of engines
an angry naked shout
the underbelly of hanging
to what i show you
baking soda explosives
cake walk fixations on the vaginas of modern andromeda
i hope to never be lost with your sanctuary
dog sized emotions
a world punching out its timecard from the slot
a season for betrayals
the mantra of your dreams
dead enough to explain myself
a sunken cheek caring for the sun
a sweet lullaby placing of hand
the round syndrome between the
****** thighs
the strings attached are anything but labeled
upstairs is another passenger
first name last name
instead
mute all that is here
ashes
unnecessary you
the collective harm of all those images which if excluded contain
the replacement address of my kidney being
molested
or is it the usage of hiding
anything
dove’s postage junk mail
what you’ve seen before
the cost of being asked two days late
my fluorescent teeth the talk of spit blood
and ****
magnification of insects
the body moves
fondled colors blend
a ******
the ****** the cortex of beethoven
no answer yet  
on the verge of letting
go
wall of trees
a crowd of tongues the simple denial of light
my envelope seed
in cornucopia grinding
teeth machine a pullover switchblade
wake up from me
given the distant sun wrapped in
****** on clothes my miracle
tomorrow
  your fingers in me contemplating the ounces
of an inch thick sore
calmly anything in surrounding
distortion a weight of idle hands
needles
the acid belly
fortress within
your tourniquet
the victim of my believing in you
silent dead motionless
butterflies cradle the eyes
in the slit of dawn’s early malice
complacent and mind full
the choke hold is apparent in you
i wanted it
heart and throat convulsions the situation derives in itself
the wondering thought
your sickness dives among our ***** oiled mouths
spread like a homeless saint
save your self from the outside of me
as i look up you dissolve
the undeniable number of times
i spent inside you
it beats on
one short felt breath
my time is gone
everything’s alright
on my back
seeing unreal reasons for wanting
a crawling thought a
slip off the hand
grinding small animals the
door opens still life asphyxiation
the roundness of my echo
inside this explosion I ask for
blind allegiance to your *****
the simple duration of lust and gasping
acquaintances I have had
but all in tiny dreams that
eat away at my intestines
and rows or birds wait for their turn at me
for empty boxes cold whispers
and dead words
are what is left

He wakes up with teeth grinding, lightening bolts in his jaw
Crooked smile, broken as his home is and lonely in suffering
Each day when the cruel sun streaks in through cracked curtains
and he is reminded of a unique affliction, the asymmetrical torso
moreover, the scabrous flesh that adorns the arms and inner thigh
He feels morose and grotesque, as a woman could never be
Reflective avoidance, the mirror always covered when he stands to ****
Rheum still covers delicate eyes so accuracy goes out the window
and grumbling, stooping over, wiping the mess he sighs and makes wishes

How painful these days are to a man that prays for femininity
Stature and girth like a real man, though dreaming as a schoolgirl
Bristling stubble, adoration for his thick hair from envious men
Appeasing some latent homosexual desire,
but not enough to reciprocate adoration
The pain in his worn teeth is a constant reminder of ineffectual existence
and his shoulders ache every day, whilst legs are jelly and lose balance constantly
How cruel the lethargy can be, that some days he alters anatomy
at least in his own psyche, that ever fruitful imagination

So in lonely doledrum evenings when the mists set on cityscapes
the petty escape is worn, vibrant black ladies-wear, evening gowns
and wild high heels, posturing female attire for a tender soul
Corsets and tapes hiding unseemly masculine traits,
figurine madness, the make-up set meticulous and dynamic
Ruby red lips that eschew gender conformity and mascara mirrors the sky
She feels that warm embrace, spiritual in deep ****** chasms
Grasping for the apparently unattainable; magazine littered pictures on the tabletop
and her coarse fingers glide on silken garments, moonlight serenade on the speaker

How elegant the movie star madame, in this depression taken hold
A temporary release she clinches on to some beautiful image, forever in love
To be beautiful is to be happy and all women are beautiful, experience as a teacher
Funny how fatigue disappears once embellished in womanly garb
and funnier still that the aching head and rotting mouth are nil under blusher
Those nights can be liberating for a man of ennui and illness
Confusing though it may be, that such a man can attain such joy
and still feel devotion for every woman he loved, the fact still remains that
In the mirror she saw herself smiling and so she reasoned to turn the mirror the correct way up