Freedom rang,
bang   bang   bang
and we traversed the dense foilage
of my Sepia Jungle
Populated by Spirited faeries
Whose lives came and went with the blowing wind.
And Time dissappeared beneath the sublte sunshine
As we entered Apricot Village
Where twisted, sappy leaves gnarled between
Milky white blossoms that decorated fetal fruits,
Whose crowning golden heads pushed petals fresh,
From budding limb,
Now kidnapped by the wind, a lazy sloshing sea of air,
The ground garnished by its aged spices.
It was a village where cottages grew among the Trees.
Devoid of holiness & Dogma, but steeped in the rife Purity of Nature,
No Man was to be seen, rotting fruit about the feet of Trees,
The floors of cottages strewn with Apricot pits, fleshy fruit half eaten
By the Birds, nestled into fertile Earth, and sprouted Life
rising fresh from pichest soil.
We ate of the fruit, now rested in the Golden Afternoon, which
Reached beyond the fringe of Time,
The fleshy pulp of Apricots the strands of bygone Universes,
Which taught us how to slumber there among
The petals and the Wind.

I divide the sky into pieces
and I get my piece of blue
when the sun is crying that he can not see you,
a sheaf of unrelenting reveries
driven by my anxious soul
stop on my warm lips,
await your crying call
that is lost at the gate of my loneliness,
~
the yellow tulip from my glass vase
is wondering where the ants are that were keeping her company
in the garden where she lived her childhood,
the present becomes suffocating,
I prefer to escape again in vivid dreams,
~
spring kisses my cheeks
I am sinking in lust again
my eyes seek the love of dandelions,
I am flirting with the darkness that floods my room
and ****** my naked body,
my nightgown looks for the lost buttons,
ripped away by the craving of the stars...
~
my heart dances in the ocean of heavens
drops of love are falling
in a sublte way perceived only by me.

I'm afraid of how you touch me,
I'm afraid of how you heal my heart with hello,
and break it with a goodbye
how every sensitive sublte change in tone
is a holy mystic novel
that i can digest and explicate in seconds

I see you.
If I can't, then I feel you.
You are that ALWAYS, and NEVER in every lover's promises
that blank stare when loving words go flowing down your sweet tongue
sublte as you can be,
but I see you alright.
I see you in dim room as if it's our backporch during the summer days
I see you in every twitches of the eyes,
sense you, you're the lump in the throat,
the stammers, and the stopping of the heart.
like yellow to black, like day to night.
There's no use hiding...
I see you.
I feel you.

My weakness of silver is slivers of Raze that shine upon me hiding my Ray's of sunshine shaping shady subtle realities,
Extreme extroverts case introvert is escaping and rubbing off in energy ****** people's thoughts because at the ending off all simple relations of makeup dna there is a difference of compatibility even through similarities there is something not as big as me,
I'll change the way I'm veiwed in quick flick like thanos rub of my fingertips, a curse now lifts here is the fresh wind of chills winter till heater kicks...
Sinners and saints that does not longer remain in suspense ,
My phrophets Alighn and discuss while I vent,
I huddle there crowds when and while spies touch my system of circumstance,
I'm after if and it won't let me go,
Someone tell me I'm living a life I don't control,
I feel my face get number when I write what they already know like a headache between my ears that has the squint of my soul leaning in as my head Auto piolets and all of what comes unfolds,
My left ear prepares but Rose like Alexander till Bars work Mexican slander like a backstab of a Kane a Uncle owns with the skin of a salamander ,
I'l am the right way of thinking .
I respect the master, but not one of planet and awhat emerge after.
There isn't a plant I put since I was born that wasn't for the current me to breathe and be the words typed in my stone with prints that marks didn't wip with a gift or way of reminder that you idiots call lies to divide and print Syfy tricks ,
Simply put im the "Devine invent",
White light, dark light simple upbeat running up and down water flow between my spine tap tap window and expect new experience daily when I present,
I just need years to learn while I stay present and silent,
I want hugs food and times with no violence and learning of true human habits, I'm done with the child feel like all who have had , and only choose what now they shall get,
I thought you was supposed to loose your best friend but it was just my own personal death,
Now I ressurect and fullfil my quest,
Most the time I wish I didn't have to waste my time on worthless text and script of simple relations to love through intense massive introductions of wasted ***,
Chomosone is simple same
But I can't explain the feeling between my hands when I think of the appearing image because I'm always to big to help describe your living in the intervention
What else can I help the angel see with white horse she riding that I am the Lion ago arriving here I reside in a file of timing simentaniousky lining and placement arrivial of testing his energetic genetic execution is brilliant .
Don't be upset by your versions and read scriptures you fear the fact your involved only gives you chance at front hand vision to emerge as they already decided between good and evil at end,
Rule the marble in a simple version,
Happy to hear your finally understanding the inside man.  

I will only be a better me and keep my problems of evidence in written sublte substance,
I work with building only my name to sustain substance a wonderful and spread info of how can with all the at lived transform so massivley like this fast enough to gain such attention and substance. .. on and on ******* constant speaking words only trying to forgive and forget.  If only this sad string of live could be finally lived.

Celestial vivacity; a common misconception.
We write odes and sonnets to glorify the speckled sky.
It's not the romanticized effervescent glow that consumes me, it's the preceding invisible chaos.

When I say you remind me of the stars, I'm not referring to a sublte glow, one the same as the next, soft and graceful. That's not you.

You are infinite, scorching luminosity, passionate hearth with a vindication of incandescent eternity.

You see, you saw the stars for the story they told and appreciate each particle of gas and dust that gave us the option for passive freedom to glance at these historical records of meticulous detail and chance, in our ever changing interstellar medium.

My ode is this-- do not glance passively at the night sky. Instead reach for each piece of the collapsing core of our stars, clasp it into your palms and appreciate holding both creation and destruction in all absoluteness.

Wickedness, disastarous, madness is so below

Think I dont see you, I see the mastery
Trickery, licentiousness, melding insanity

Fighting you using me, which one hung from the tree?
Scroched, beguiled, used...destroy me, you hate me
Return so I do to witness the blasphemy
Intoxicant villian, tricky trick revelry

Prayer to my Father, light and the darkness
Direction misplaced, whos voice do I harken?

Blatant and sublte, place on the pyramid
matters not where, I see through my eyelids
Rank doesnt matter, your voice will be shattered
Go to the underworld, your voice will be splattered

Seize time you have, for resist will I must
Harken the times, in Lake you are ******