The empty sound of wind coiling
Through hollow vessels whispers
Groans of unheard secret
Unseen from the lips from which
Its voice echoed  
Carrying a lace of touch...
Tis a familiar one,
But still a foreign tongue garnishes
The walls betwixt and between the ears.  
A hum, a song,  
An earthly reflection of love through
A faded sense of albatross...

A thickening dissonance
Between the soothing delay of
Fingertips buried in the roots of a
Sentient heart
Wrench and twist
The angel's song through a
Seasonal mind
Resonating the lost and the torn.
The Betrayer.
And in turn,
We always destroy what we've
Come to love.
Defenseless.

Is evil perpetual?

The allure.

The rush.

The blur.

Hush.

The narrative begins at a point in time,
Somewhere adrift at open seas  
Where polymorphic abstractions surfaced
The blends of life,
Dancing and prancing along these envisioned
Waves

Splash of color there
Dash of color here
A streak
A twirl
A visage of refraction on the fringe
Of her hair: A path  

And
In ambiance we once strolled
This path to elliptical essences
Green, green, green, red,  
Hypnotized in fervor, but alone I lapsed  
In seconds,
In minutes
Into pages of scores  

She, my lore to
Dimensional shifts of dreams and open doors
That I once wished to stroll through
Along with her

But now I smoke in absence of her exhale
Her spliff to my lungs: distant and regretful.  

Fragmented.