I live
  dream
  die
to create
    complete
each letter
         word
         turning phrase and
         thought-out straightaway

You read
        breathe
        digest
every syllable
letters strung
like a popcorn necklace
fingerpainted fragment sentences
authoritatively artistic and
defended in brazen resolve



my keeper of the slight,
the nuanced, softly sung,
down-quilted gerunds:
holding, brushing, sweeping
tasting, loving

There is no sound in space.
No quiet nothings whispered.
The sunlight on my face
now scorching, cracking, blistered,


Starvation
comes quickly
when the cook's not around;
so when the words stop
if need be,
feast on me.

I'll swath my cliches
in over verbose decadence
and ask forgiveness in the morning.

Edging
     toeing
the fine line in between
Fighting to *live
- or -
living to fight
in champagne surged soirees
of surreptitious allergens

Some ******* ballad
donning metalcore methods
aggressive to a fault
     that is to say, earth-shattering
unyielding, unwavering, unapproachable
un-*******-believable

You, me,
they, we,
truncated
but never forgotten
Had
but never spent
Forgotten
but never lost

Your name is in my autocorrect
with siren songs and call signs
from generational grievances,
Chivalrous misandry,
chorus discord
callous

Chandeliers swing
low like chariots.
Samson told us to keep dancing.
We were only listening,
abreast one another,
clad only in our genres.
We were so much more
until we were

lost,
but never mattered.

A chortle is
a slythy gleeblish burstle
of verbivore
snickerdazzle
daufter.

To chortle is
to gigglenuzzle bubbles
of snottish glimmerguts
that tickletwist speworling
belly happyspritz and
vorment fuzzlefizzes
out your nose.