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wordvango Oct 2020
Entirely
          Speculation
This
               Reticulation
Of
           Earthly
Desires
               Making
Longing looks
        Over
Waters
             Shuddering
Anything
             But what
It was
               Only
Waves
wordvango Oct 2020
was a man who
Tried to become everyone
He traded and stole
Borrowed and portrayed
He never was himself
Just a trace
He was a shimmer
Of a soul
Reflecting others
Becoming unknown
As much a thief
Could ever have known
Until he chanced
One day in the dark
to think back look
At his face
In a shiny spoon
In an empty dark
Room with no
Touches of him on
The walls
No love to embrace
he had none not a nose
Or a smile no ears for
He had been borrowing
Those
wordvango Oct 2020
it might seem obvious how to
Make dreams out of pure
Fairytales and iconic
Masterpieces when
Lost in embrace or
High from a kiss
But can you make rainbows
Out of stale history
And cakes out of lies
Here lies the most memorable
of things; wise of the mind
And existence,
Because not all grows strong seeds become old, die;
but they try to
Become beautiful
And in my eyes
Are
wordvango Oct 2020
The conscience food
Masticating
Flesh
Blood the essence
A tender fragrance
Wafting through nose
To
Tastebuds fornication  
Mouth
watering
Pure decadence
Involving dissolving gnashing
Evolving
Each bite  
tiny pieces 
 spittle
Veins gristle sinew
Go
Down
The drain
Must live be vapid enormous
The most ravenous
Survival is a thing
And the menu
plain
wordvango Sep 2020
Never on the plain level loosely gathering bubbles slightly off
Kilter a bit of a rogue,
Seemingly a kite lost flutter
Ing on ways to nowhere
And not caring
About futures or
Credit reports,
Tradition best spit out on sidewalk cafes where you order
The best chardonnay,
And get dust,
How's so ever then peeling
Off running not paying the bill,
I'd never do that, just seemingly,
Wearing my best running shoes
Loose pants,
Have you ever been looked at like you are the waiter?
Anyways, not deferred,
Nor harboring grudges colored
In no way, skin or poverty, or ambition,
The way politicians tend
To say, dole ones, the beggars,
Street urchins do touch me, as my kind and upbringing.
As one ages, and skin folds benign, along smile lines ruffages
Around mouths the white hairs
On mustache the ears getting scarred, eyes not acute to read
Prices on menus, that pause...
When you answer a question,
Along with the constant need
To visit the loo,
Men are men and women women. Grey hued slower selves
Still human.
Bless you, becomes an acquired saying to those younger faster svelte cold young babes
You just wish you could share
Your knowing.
wordvango Sep 2020
there's
A full mood,
perhaps a dull
twinkle scar,

hidden,
behind your dark-
brown,
cloud-covered
eyes,
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