Bolts and matches.
No match for bolts and matches.
A star under the burnings of the floor.
Black bold face tea.
Trim the hands.
A boat for small and easy jobs.

Somehere I run and somewhere I move.

Never a knew question.
Or be them known.

On colorful rocks.
Rocks colored with your face.
Rocks before color and these are again.
Rocks believe the promises.

Rocks do not move for Heaven.
Crumbling, a tight holding.



Maybe something stranger and a something much more than this.

This has been your still birth.

You need not be more.

Retry and compute and restore and believe.

Love just won't know.
I've tried the two year old plan.

It is age now.
Time moving and the stillness of completion.

By your cycle and by your side.

My
mouth
bleeds.

My mouth crumbles from heat.
& when I sleep at night, my window opens.

Winter creeps in & steals the warmth of your memory.

Smothering only hope & rewriting my repose,

My hollow form, now torn, twisted.

I am man again.

All the same.

I'm no thread scarring your dreams.

Sensibly I seek strength.

& hover towards that lonesome window.

& bolt it's cold steel latch.

& stumble.

Through the frosted pane.

Into deep liquid night, my eyes close.

Dreaming in the closet and I will have the same as you. You must know I feel you.
As all and before. Come hither. Bring your noose and the last dress we sold our skins for.
Cheap witness, plagiarize our scars and pass them onto former lovers.
The newest additions run no deeper than the stories of your hide resting in his closest.
And how funny it is.

My dreams and my silences against your pleasings and your oiled canvas.
May you rub your nose open.
Your skin will fall.

"Please no more. Leave me with the husks of before."

Listen. And your age will weep it's loss.
Your strings are knotted. Just above the hemline, your goddesses crumble.

I try to struggle.
I try the dance with any devil present.
Believe that you will remember.

And I try so hard.

So sleep and dream.

Maybe an equal amount make it out alive.

"Bring me love. "

Twenty seven megahertz. Imagining myself in the restroom choking on a crushed throat. This fact is separated by a lack of sleep and much consumption of eleven dollar nostalgia.
A forced talisman of luck and truth. Like words etched onto monumental slabs of cheap granite. Floating in me, two forces join and near a ******. Above my clavicle, closest to the tainted essence nesting in between white skull and black heart. The forces fall like dead and wingless rocks from Heaven.
I try to remove my phantom from you. I try to put myself in your new shoes.
The old ones discarded with the techniques of innocence and lessons of a true first love.
You glow now. From every glossy cover I see you are strong and your wounds smoothed.
The trenches filled and paved. Lonely cathedrals blossom from your naked body. We all wait quietly to worship and sacrifice. Our scratchings wait and you open your mouth.
You open your legs and we baptise our sins in the crashing. We are all reborn of you, inside you.
Away and always this Hell turns back.

Somewhere far away, MI.

The third hurricane. And the few parts that skip, pierced and questioning. Two kinds answer with the days of telephoto webs, before there was much more to be said.

Diamonds spill over floors, on fingers then become squares from the tub's refuge. Fitting places for best friends.

Seas of sweat sway and break near the stucco. Final snowslide in ecstasy just before the window. Seasons of emotion and music hold no breaths.
The snow searches. Wondering influx.

"Just beyond the lungs, the soul waits."

Prebuscent tears she's held onto for years.
Not to see her cry. For tonight her eyes must stay bright.
In this stranger's bed, she knows what happens next.
Fancy breakfast.
Fancy poolside.
With her all her friends by her side.
From a phone call.
For a plane ride.
And now this is your life.

Oh young beauty fade.
Young beauty fade.

With all the locks secured, having noticed my security, a voice whispers and life becomes complete.
Fleeting words, passion tumbles from the ceiling. With epiphanies, little rooms left bare for my own discoveries. The life of rhythm is disrupted. A new medicine for use in moderation.
A guitar, fragile with echoes of perfection.
But what else is there to keep?
A sunset fades and a new line is born.
This is what we truly want. This is freedom and a chance for options.
Xyz.
Consequence sings and I sleep.
My mask becomes me and we wake. But is there something else?
Complete with losing my mind before the moments find you.
Two songs play in the kitchen and my choice remains unsung.
Heros rush in and civilians wake.
Peace moves toward the light.
A silk blouse for the funeral. Only to fall far down the grave.

With a gift I move forward and destroy myself.
A beating of youth'youth's innocence.
The curve shivers and cradles this loss in rigid angles.
Doorknobs above this plane twist and turn in strange resonance.
Light removes our square from its rest.
The curve remembers this and falls in haste. Searching for new ground.

A page turns. A movement is born.

This hole opens. Chambers become themselves thrice over.

And we'll never know if blue was the correct choice.
We'll never know if pink were a suit better.
I'd never known there was a choice of color had I not caught your grey eyes marked in purples and blacks.
There is much red now.
In the toilet bowl.
On the tiled floor.
Finding its way into my veins and sight.
So tell me, with all these unkowns where lays truth and love?
In his bed or mine?
Do you dream of gold teeth?
Do you dream of replacing your own?
Someday this day will pass.
Someday this anniversary will pass.
And a moment waiting will emerge, staying your wrists from some razor's call.
I pray the dates melt and fade.
I pray the memory of you twirls away, spilling over the claw foot's edge, into oblivion.

Roar.
stone teeth grind dully.
Dear.
flesh swells & tears.
Torn.
breathe aggressive heat.
Breathe.